Dust Won't Settle
by SAMsational
Summary: Very AU/OOC. As frontman of "Mockingjay", pursuing a life of Groupies & Good Times has never been difficult for Peeta. Until he meets Katniss Everdeen. As Peeta rebels against his developing feelings, clinging instead to the comfort of self-destruction, Katniss must decide just how far she's willing to go to reach someone that may not even be waiting. Rated M for coarse language.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: Hi! I'm not a huge fan of Author's Notes so I'll make this quick. :) Just wanted to explain that when I said "Very AU", I wasn't joking. Although there are subtle links to the Canon world, the majority of this story follows two very out-of-character protagonists in a modern world. Hopefully, you'll still enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing. Thanks!  
-Sam**_

**Hunger Games is owned by Suzanne Collins. All rights to the characters and their world are also hers.**

* * *

_Morning? Already? Get fucked._

Peeta squinted against the sunlight streaming through his window. It took all of a second to realize the fun he'd had last night would not transition so smoothly. Groaning, he slowly sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Cato and Finnick would be waiting for him in the lobby, no doubt; probably had more than one missed call on his phone too.

But that would have to wait. First – shower.

The additional onslaught of light in the bathroom made Peeta wince – he almost didn't notice the message written in bright red lipstick on the mirror. _Almost_:

**555-345-443 – Call me! Glimmer xxx**

The side of his mouth pulled up in a slight grin as he stepped under the hot streaming water.

_So that was her name…I'll have to remember that when I tell the boys…_

Twenty minutes and 3 asprins later, Peeta walked into the lobby. Dark shades covered half of his face - a scowl making up the difference. Seeing him enter, Finnick left his seat, meeting him half way.

"Finally! You know Mellark, if preventing the apocalypse relied on your punctuality, we'd all be zombies by now." He paused, looking Peeta up and down, "Or maybe vampires - judging from the Shaft impersonation you've got going on."

"It was a rough night."

"Didn't Glimmer promise you it would be?" Finnick countered, winking.

"Oh fucked if I know the specifics." Peeta grumbled, "And how the hell do you remember these girls' names all the fucking time? I can barely remember my own."

"And that's why your Mum still sews it into your undies, right?"

"Yeah. Spot on Finn. Got it in one." Peeta rolled his eyes behind his glasses. "Now can we please get some breakfast? Or lunch? Or whatever fucking food is acceptable at whatever time of day it is?"

Now it was Finnick's turn to roll his eyes. "Once again, your aversion to being where you say you'll be, when you say you'll be there, has left us late and stranded." He turned and started for the lobby doors, motioning for Peeta to follow him, "The meeting? With Enobaria Records?"

"Ohhhh fuck." Peeta picked up his pace to match Finnick's, "I suppose that's where Cato is?"

"Obviously." Finnick paused, and shot him a sideways glance, "And I suppose you are intending on feigning some sort of jet lag and secretly sleeping through the whole thing?"

Peeta grinned, and then winced, clutching the side of his head, "Mr Odair, you just know me too well."

"Not half obvious it's your shout tonight."

* * *

_What a fucking piece of shit that 3 hours was._

"…don't you think, Mr Mellark?"

_Shit._

Peeta smiled uneasily.

_Shit. Fuck. Shit._

"Of course he does!" Cato chimed in, slapping Peeta on the back. Hard. "…that's why he's so quiet today – he can't help but think about music."

_Cheers, Cato._

"…I mean, it's in his blood, ya know? Forget food. Forget sleep. Forget _girls_. Peeta is just 100% music, 100% of the time."

_Ok…let's not get crazy over here…_

"I mean, even in that meeting – I guarantee Peeta was caught up in his head, planning out the next melody for our album." Cato grinned purposefully at Peeta, "I doubt he even heard a word you said, he would've been that out of it."

_Annnd…too far. Cheers, asshole._

The executive in front of them stared at Peeta, then at Cato, and then at Peeta again – unsure whether the shorter, leaner of the pair was being sarcastic. Peeta took the opportunity to turn it around.

"Ha ha…yeah, Cato wishes! Then maybe he wouldn't have to pull his own weight in the studio!" he forced a laugh and slapped Cato on the back. Hard.  
The man laughed, and put a strong hand on Peeta's shoulder. "You guys…you're really something else."

He turned to walk away, motioning for his assistant – a young pretty red head who had not gone unnoticed by Peeta during their marathon stint in the office – to catch up with him.

"I'll get Faux to draw up the papers. Welcome to your Capitol representation, boys."

Peeta and Cato kept their pose until their new boss had rounded the corner. Just.

"What the fuck, Cato? That had better have been some District 2 side-effect that had you throwing me under the bus there."

Cato grabbed his jacket off of a nearby chair and slung it over his shoulder. "Yeah because the fact that you spent half of the meeting sleeping, and the other half gawking at the girl in the corner-"

"I believe her name is Faux." Finnick closed the office door behind him and moved forward, "And it wasn't her he was staring at – is was the missing button on her blouse – isn't that right, Peeta?"

"Finnick, this isn't always something you can make a joke out of. Peeta's antics were funny when we were teenagers and didn't give a fuck. Now it's just a pain in the ass, and-"

"Right here, Cato. Right the fuck here."

Cato looked pointedly at Peeta, "…and quite frankly, _Peeta_, I'm sick of having to cover for you."

The two men stared each other down, neither one having much to say, but sensing that walking away first would be a loss. It was Finnick that broke the silence.

"Right. Ok. Bullshit aside…" He hesitated, shifting from one foot to the other, "…Cato maybe has a point."

_É tu, Finnick?_

"…But." He continued, "I really don't think this is the time or the place."

Cato sighed, and eased his stance. "Valid point."

But Peeta was still mad, "This is fucked. How about I just see you guys tomorrow." It was a statement, not a question.

"Sure, Peeta. Whatever." Finnick shrugged, "See you later."

He'd only been in the district for just over 24 hours – the only place he knew was the club they'd been to last night; the place he'd met Glimmer. And he sure as hell didn't want a repeat. So Peeta didn't quite know where he was heading when he flung the front doors open and marched down the stairs of Enobaria Records. It was dusk by now – too late to be a tourist, and too early to be a trouble-maker.

_Alcohol it is._

Not fussy, he walked about half a block and stopped outside of a brick-fronted pub – The Hob. Noting there was a good amount of people, and a decent choice of music, he walked inside. Immediately his eyes scanned the room, looking for a potential _friend _for the evening.

_No. No. Eh…maybe. Ugh. HA! …Bingo._

* * *

Katniss sat at the bar, sipping her third vodka and raspberry. Looking at the crowd gradually forming around her, she considering getting up to leave. Half of the pub's patrons seemed to be on a mission to have an _emission_, and the other half were couples thoroughly intent on turning her into an unwilling voyeuristic participant. Neither of these were appealing prospects.

She downed the rest of her drink in one go, and slung her bag over her shoulder.

"Hi, I'm Peeta…can I get you another one?"

_What do we have here?_

Katniss looked at the man beside her inquisitively: short blonde hair, big blue eyes, fairly tall frame and a genuinely cute accent. He flashed a smile, which only added another tick to his list.

_Not altogether unimpressive._

She paused, intrigued. Perhaps another drink was in order.

A pretty blonde two seats down held out her hand, "Satin. And yes you may. Bicardi and coke, please."

Katniss suppressed a grin, and kept her gaze forward.

"So…that accent – where are you from?"  
"Just a few districts over. I'm here with some friends." Peeta sat down and got himself a beer. "And what's a pretty thing like you doing all alone in a place like this?"

Katniss stifled a laugh, making a slightly-too-loud cough instead. Peeta turned quickly to glance in her direction before turning his back again.

Satin quietly sipped her drink, unwilling to do much other than smile coyly.

_What a pro!_

She turned just in time to see the large, steroid-infused man return from the bathroom.

"What the fuck is this shit?!" Steroid-Man glared at Peeta, putting his arm around the petite blonde.

Peeta turned his head, looking from one to the other. Katniss imagined a look of disbelief; of rejection – perhaps even a tad bit of envy? Instead, he swung around on his stool, looked down at the counter and just shook his head.

"Dude, I really cannot be fucked right now."

"Was this dick buying you drinks, babe?! Who the fuck does he think he is?!"

Steroid-Man looked as though he was about to unleash his anabolic super-powers, and the bartenders seemed to be at the ready in case anything happened. But Peeta just looked…tired.

_Can't say I'm not intrigued…_

Eventually his counterpart's unwillingness to react seemed to bore the man, and he and Satin left. To an upstairs room with a bed and two hours paid in advance, presumably.

After their departure, Katniss and Peeta sat in silence for a while. She contemplated saying something, but didn't want to be intrusive, or worse – boring – and was about to resume the act of going home early when he suddenly looked up.

"You knew about him, didn't you?"

She smiled slightly, and cocked her head to one side. "If you're referring to Robo-Roid, then…it's possible I'd seen them on the brink of public indecency a few minutes prior to your arrival."

Peeta returned the smile, and shook his head again, "Cheers for the head's up."

"You seemed like a man on a mission…besides, who was I to interrupt such poetic gold?"

"I'll have you know I am an absolute charmer." He'd turned to face her properly now, and she'd be lying if she said his good looks weren't startling.

"…And what's a pretty thing like you doing all alone in a place like this?" Katniss mimicked, batting her eyelashes, "Really? _Really?_"

He laughed, and ordered another beer.

"Oh! And light beer! Watching the calories now too, are we?" She gestured towards the long-neck in Peeta's hand.

"I'll have you know Beer Bloatage is a real problem amongst the male drinking population!"

"It's the silent mood-killer, I'm sure."

"Well, what are you drinking that's so much more appropriate?"

"Ohhh no, buddy. You're not buying me a drink – I already know the lines to follow are unimpressive"

Peeta faked an indignant look, and took a swig of his beer. "And what would you suggest I do to better my game?"

Katniss paused, playing with the straw in her now-empty glass. "Oh I don't know if you could pull it off…I'm sure you've realized already that my sheer prowess is overwhelming."

Peeta grinned and lent in, "I'll give it my best shot, then."

"Ok. If you're sure. Ready?"

He nodded.

"The first one is very simple…you walk up to a girl, and tap her on the shoulder. Nothing fancy. And then you lean in." She moved closer to Peeta, "And you whisper, real sweet – I'm not Fred Flinstone, but I'll make your Bedrock."

Peeta's head swung back and he laughed. "Oh yeah, I don't know how I could ever pull that one off." He grinned.

"You're probably right – don't want to set the bar too high too soon." Katniss thought for a moment. "Maybe this one – same concept, but a little more likely."

She lent in again, a small smile playing on her features. "So, uh, if you'll regret this in the morning – we can sleep 'till the afternoon."

They both laughed this time, and Katniss pushed her glass towards the bartender.

"As if that shit would ever actually work on anyone." Peeta commented, his laughter having subsided, "Unless your end goal is a well-rounded slap."

"Oh I don't know…" Katniss started, "I think it has honest potential."

"Bullshit."

"True story!"

"So a guy comes up to you, and says either of those lines…your response is to throw yourself at him?"

Katniss scoffed, "My reaction is _never_to throw myself at someone." She grinned, "But – depending on the level of sleaze adopted during its delivery…I'd most likely introduce myself…"

Peeta stared at her, unconvinced.

"It's a good icebreaker!" Katniss insisted, "Provided you don't give off pervert vibes!"

"Is that why I still don't know your name? Pervert vibes?"

_Ooh. Well played._

"Ha. What you send out is more akin to having Desperado by The Eagles playing as your theme song."

"Ouch!" Peeta feigned hurt, holding his hand over his heart, "That one cut me deep!"

"You going to need a band aid?" she smiled, extending her arm, "I'm Katniss."

"Peeta."

The clock above his head caught her attention, and she groaned. "And that, dear Peeta, is my cue to get out of here."

"What?" he turned around, checking the time, "It's only 6:30! Where could you possibly have to go?"

Katniss stood up, flashing him a grin.

"Unsolved mystery." She turned to leave, hesitating ever so slightly.

"Wait!"

_Thank God._

"Could I get your number or something?"

Katniss paused, "How about…I'll be here with my best friend on Friday night – around 7. If you want to catch up, I'll see you then."

"7pm, Friday night. Here." Peeta repeated.

She nodded, smiling again, "Have a good one, Peeta."

"…Yeah…"

Katniss swung the door open, and was hit with a big gust of cool night air. She fought the urge to look back, instead making her way to the nearest empty cab.

_Wow._


	2. Chapter 2

_Wow._

Peeta watched Katniss leave The Hob, smiling vaguely.

_Well that was…interesting._

Their conversation – or more specifically, the enjoyment he had gotten out of it – had come as a shock to Peeta. Stimulation was on the menu, of course. But the type he had anticipated sure as hell didn't involve any exchange of dialogue beyond the necessary introductions and propositions. His vague smile widened for a moment before he caught himself.

_No._

Peeta was annoyed at getting so off-task. Their introduction had gone exactly nowhere, meaning Katniss was nothing more than a distraction; an interruption he had indulged in for too long. Irrelevant and pointless.

_Back to business._

Hardening his resolve with a curt nod, Peeta surveyed the room again, this time finding a distinct lack of interest in the women he was surrounded by.

…_The fuck? Focus, Mellark!_

Thrown, he looked again, making sure to leave no female un-judged. Still, no one caught his eye. He pushed his beer away from him, the amber liquid sloshing up against the sides. Even alcohol had lost its charm for tonight.

_Fuck this._

Peeta stood up and left the pub, pulling his jacket on roughly.

_Just a stupid girl. Not even all that attractive, really. Jesus! Can't believe I let her ruin my night. Life fail._

As he was making his way back to the hotel, Peeta was vaguely aware that anger was now finding its way to the forefront. Grunting his thanks to the doorman, he trudged through the lobby, trying to pinpoint the exact target of his resentment. Himself? Katniss? Cato?

"What are you doing back so early?"

Peeta stopped and looked towards the familiar voice, barely making out the familiar silhouette.

_Definitely Cato._

"What's it to you?"

There was a loud dragging sound as Cato pulled out the chair next to him, motioning for Peeta to join him.

_Not likely._

"C'mon Mellark. Plant your ass."

"What's in it for me?"

"Fuck I don't know! Maybe a chance to stop being an ass?"

Peeta moved forward slightly, hovering in the archway separating the lobby from the hotel's bar. "Fuck you."

"I know we need to talk. Finnick knows we need to talk. Hell, even the bartender over there can tell we need to talk. So take the god damn seat, and let's get this done."

Sighing, Peeta relented and lowered himself into the chair. "Fine. Go."

Cato took a deep breath, "So. We haven't really been getting along recently."

_Not shit. You really Sherlock-ed the crap out of that._

"And despite the fact that you have the emotional capacity of a plank of wood, I want to air it out with you."

Peeta remained silent, his arms folded firmly.

"Right. So. Let's hear it." Cato spread his arms wide; an invitation, "Why am I a wanker?"

Peeta snorted and looked at his band mate suspiciously. "Are you serious?"

Cato nodded, still waiting.

"Isn't it obvious? I don't need to be protected. Or judged. Or bitched at." He paused, thinking, "We used to have the best time in the world, and now you're just on fuckwit mode. All the time."

Cato was nodding slowly, seemingly thinking about how to word something.

"So…you miss when we were younger and more reckless?"

"No. More fun."

"Less serious about the music? About our futures?"

_Paging Dr Phil._

"Jesus Cat – all I'm saying is you're a wet blanket and it pisses me the fuck off."

Cato straightened in his chair, eyes flaring, "Yeah well you gallivanting across the country doing god knows what with god knows who – risking the entire band's future in the process – really pisses _me _the fuck off too, Peeta!"

The men stared at each other, once again sensing a stalemate. This time however, it was Peeta who broke the silence. "Gallivanting? Really?" He smirked, raising one eyebrow.

Cato turned to look away, not quite able to hide the slight smile forming on his lips. "I was in the moment."

"What moment lends itself to 'gallivanting'?" Peeta pressed, his voice driping with mock curiousity.

"Shut up Mellark."

"No, honest! I really want to know what moment; what thought process leads to earnest usage of such a word."

Cato turned to face Peeta, smiling genuinely now. "The wanker path, clearly."

They laughed, the tension from earlier in the day finally broken. Cato held up a hand to beckon the waiter, keeping his eyes on Peeta. "Seriously though…just…try to care more?"

Peeta shrugged in compliance, "Only if you try to care less."

* * *

Two hours and a dozen drinks later, Cato and Peeta had fallen back into step with one another. At some point one of them had called Finnick to join them, and now the three men were sitting around the table laughing merrily.

"Jeez…not even 9:30 and I'm feeling it." Finnick commented, swigging the last of his whisky.

"Tell me about it! Even more bizzare with Peet still here with us…" Cato paused, thinking, "Hey! You never did tell me why you got back so early tonight!"

Peeta did his best to stay expressionless. "No reason."

_I only fail at life, is all._

"As if. Out with it!"

_There was this girl._

"Really guys – nothing extraordinary. Just weren't any lookers tonight."

_She stole my mojo._

"Since when have you been picky!"

_How did she steal my mojo?! …Also, fuck you Cato._

"You know what I think?" Finnick interjected, smiling smugly, "Peeta struck out."

_No I didn't._

"His skills were just non-existent."

_No they weren't._

"It's not that _he_ wasn't looking – _they_ weren't!"

"No – she looked!"

_Shit._

"Who's '_she_'?" Cato asked pointedly.

_Katniss._

"No one. Some random that introduced herself."

_She smelled like fruit._

"She asked me to meet her there again on Friday. _That's_ how interested she is. Suck on that."

"Sounds a bit made up if you ask me." Finnick jeered, nudging Cato, "A bit too convenient."

_No. Convenient would have been her leading me upstairs to one of those pay-per-fuck rooms._

"I think you might be right, Finn. Why, I bet if we asked our dear friend Peeta here, he'd claim he never had plans to follow through; that he wasn't interested in seeing her again."

_Exactly. Because I'm not._

"Well, that would go along with the whole convenience theory then, wouldn't it Cat?" Finnick grinned, "Perhaps we should insist a meet and greet of our own this coming Friday. Just to make sure."

Peeta rolled his eyes, frowning. "No."

"Oh c'mon! What's the harm? She's already asked you on the date – that's a sure thing!"

"Actually…" Peeta hesitated, his frown deepening, "She said she'd be there with her friend."

"…She never properly invited you?" Cato questioned, raising an eyebrow.

_Fuck you._

"Not in so many words…" he trailed off uneasily.

"You're missing the point, Cato! She's bringing a _friend_. Which means it would be impolite of Peeta _not_ to bring one himself." Finnick turned to face Peeta, "Luckily for you I happen to know this great guy called Finn – a real looker he is. And talented, too! You should just see what he can do with his hands!"

Laughing, Peeta stood up and started towards the lobby elevators, "Goodnight guys!"

"You can't leave! We haven't unpacked the details yet!"

_And __I'm__ the one with the "Desperado" theme song?_

Peeta kept walking.

"Finn the Friend! It's alliteration! Girls eat that shit up!"

The elevator doors opened, and Peeta stepped inside.

"Okay. So – we'll sort out the details later, then! Cool!"

He heard Cato laughing as the doors slid shut.

_I won't go. That would be ridiculous._

He pressed the "10" button.

_She was only mildly entertaining._

1…2…

_And there was zero indication that she'd put out. Which makes it pointless._

3…4…5…

_She was sort of funny though. I guess._

6…7…8…

_And seeing Finn throw himself at her friend would be hilarious._

9…10.

_Okay. Fine. I will go and see Katniss._


	3. Chapter 3

_Fuck it. I'm not going._

Peeta paced in front in his room, a deep crease dividing his forehead.

_Finn's embarrassment does not outweigh my reputation. Period. _

He paused, glancing at his watch. 6:32.

_Groupies don't need groundwork. That's why they're fucking groupies. And that's why they're my fuck of choice._

Finnick's speedy footsteps in the corridor gave him away long before he entered the hotel room, giving Peeta just enough time to wipe his face of emotion and fall onto the bed.

"Not long now!"

_Calm your farm, Odair. _

He stopped, looking Peeta up and down. "You're not dressed."

"What do you call this, then?" Peeta grabbed at his t-shirt hem.

"The worst wardrobe decision since Bjork decided swan's were fashionable."

_Hey Finn, you know how I know you're gay? _

"It's fine."

"It's got a mustard stain on it from this morning!" he whined, pointing, "You can't leave the house in a mustard shirt!"

"Good thing I'm not leaving then."

Finnick stopped, his eyebrows raised, "Why not?"

_Because fuck it. That's why._

__

"Because what's the fucking point if I'm not guaranteed some action?"

"Uh, hello!" Finnick sat on the bed, throwing his hands up in exasperation, "You're Peeta Mellark – there's always guaranteed action."

_…Valid point. _

"I, however, am Finnick Odair. And for some god damn reason in my world it's a distinct _lack_ of action that's assured."

_Also valid._

He stood again, making his way towards Peeta's suitcase, "And, since we're such good friends, it's practically a rule that you're not allowed to fuck this up for me."

"Bullshit."

Finnick sighed dramatically, "Cato! Come 'ere for a sec!"

Cato stuck his head through the door, "You rang?"

"Peeta wants to pike on me tonight. Please inform him of his obligations as band mate, friend, and ultimate wingman." He finished, looking confidently at their mediator.

"Sorry, dude. You gotta do it."

Finnick nodded in concurrence, and chucked a pale blue button-down towards the bed. "So stop being a pussy, turn off the TV and meet me downstairs."

"Cato's opinion on this doesn't mean jack shit."

_Peeta Mellark does not do follow-ups. _

"Just _try_." Cato looked at Peeta, a pleading look on his face.

_Peeta Mellark does not do guilt trips, either._

__

Finnick sighed dramatically, "Look. Worst case scenario, I'll make sure you get too drunk to remember anything. Deal?"

_However, Peeta Mellark does do alcohol. _

There was a beat of silence.

"Fuck! Fine. Evs." Peeta forfeited, rolling his eyes as Finnick fist pumped the air.

"Brilliant! I'll see you in 10! …And get rid of the scowl!" he called, heading back towards the door, "It doesn't go with that shirt."

* * *

_Cannot believe I'm doing this. _

"Right. So she said 7?"

"Yep."

Finnick checked his watch, "It's now 7:26."

"Yep."

"We're late."

"We're casual." Peeta corrected him.

_Some of us more so than others._

"Speak for yourself. On the other side of that door is my future lady-friend. And I am one eager beaver."

_Desperate, but not oblivious._

__

"How you have anyone thinking you are anything other than a hopeless twat is beyond me." Peeta shook his head as they rounded the corner, stopping outside the familiar brick building. "Ready?"

"Bats in the cave?" Finnick stretched up, letting Peeta see up his nose.

"No."

"Dead cat breath?" he breathed on Peeta's face, causing passersby to look at them strangely.

Peeta jerked away, "Jesus Finn! Can we just get on with it, please?" he opened the heavy oak door, motioning for Finnick to go first.

"I was just checking."

The men entered The Hob, stepping to the side of the main doors. Peeta looked to the bar where they had met earlier in the week.

_Maybe she didn't come. …It's better if she didn't come. _

Finnick rocked back and forth on his heels, taking in his surroundings. He watched as Peeta caught the eye of a pretty girl with short black hair and smiled. "Is that them?" he asked loudly, pointing.

The girl looked towards the comment, not attempting to hide her disdain. She tapped her friend on the shoulder and pointed towards Finnick, giggling. He waved at them, grinning broadly.

"No."

_And now it never will be. Wanker. _

Annoyed with his friend's over-eager approach, Peeta turned away from the table. Even without trying, it only took all of a second to spot her. She laughed, flicking her hair over her shoulder. She looked different with it out. Prettier. He shifted his gaze, trying to find her comedian.

_Who the fuck is that?! _

He was facing Katniss, so Peeta could only see his back. Not that it mattered – the fact that it was a "him" was enough. If Peeta Mellark didn't do follow-ups, then he most certainly didn't do competitions.

_Motherfu-_

__

"Is she here?" Finnick was still eagerly scanning the room, obvlious to the scowl on his wingman's face.

_Fuck this shit. _

"I don't see her. Let's just go get wasted somewhere else. This place is shit, anyway."

Finnick sighed, his shoulders slouching slightly. "Can't believe she dogged it!"

Peeta nodded in agreement, pulling him towards the exit. He thought he'd made a clean escape; that he'd gone unnoticed. He was _almost_ right.

* * *

"Peeta!" Katniss called, waving. "Over here!" she caught the attention of his older friend, and watched as he said something and pointed, stepping forward slightly. Peeta looked at her, but didn't smile.

_Who pissed in his cornflakes? _

She kept her features friendly as they approached. "Hey! Wasn't sure you were going to make it!"

"Yeah. I've been busy." Peeta mumbled, his eyes downcast. "This is my mate, Finnick. Finnick, this is Katniss."

"Good to meet you!" Finnick extended his arm towards her but let his gaze wander, seemingly searching for someone. "I was told there would be a friend?"

Katniss laughed at the auburn-haired man, shaking his hand.

"Hi, Finnick. Good to meet you, too. And your sources are correct!" She gestured to the person beside her, "Peeta, Finnick – I'd like you to meet Gale."

Finnick went slack-jawed, looking first at her, then at Gale, before finally looking at Peeta. "God fucking hates me, Mellark. I'm telling you!" he sighed heavily, extending a dejected arm in Gale's direction, "Good to meet you, too."

_Mellark? Is that his last name?_

"Yeah man, you too." Gale grasped Finnick's hand firmly, before extending it towards Peeta. It hung in the air for a beat too long, before Gale pulled back awkwardly. "So. Uh, how do you guys know Catnip?"

"Actually, Peeta's the one that met her…I'm just the tagalong." Finnick responded, his previous excitement waning, "It was here, wasn't it Peet?"

Peeta nodded towards the bar, "Yeah. Over there."

"What – no mention of my witty banter and overwhelming prowess?" Katniss tried to make a joke, nudging Peeta slightly.

He glanced at her coldly, a puzzled expression masking his attractive features, "Sorry – I must have missed those bits."

_Excuse you? _

Katniss returned his puzzled expression, tilting her head to one side.

"You know when you hear 'Katniss' and 'charm' in the same sentence, someone's got to be lying." Gale smirked.

"Isn't that true of most girls?" Finnick looked pointedly at Katniss. They laughed as she faked an indignant scoff, grateful for the effort they were making.

Peeta was still standing to one side, acting as though he was better than the conversation.

_Prententious prick._

"So Peeta, what do you do for a living?" Gale tried again.

Katniss couldn't help but notice that despite being a good 2 inches shorter than her lanky best friend, he made the attempt to stand straighter; seem taller.

"I write music." Peeta replied coolly.

"We're in a band," Finnick added proudly, "and Peeta here doesn't contribute nearly as much as he'd like to have you believe. He used to write all the time – he's really good. But lately it's mainly me and Cato."

Gale nodded appreciatively, "That's pretty awesome. What are you called?"

_Mellark the Moron? _

"Mockingjay."

_Close enough. _

"I'll have to check it out. Are you guys-"

"Look," Peeta interjected suddenly, looking at her, "I'm sorry, but this is really not what I had planned for a night out."

Katniss raised an eyebrow, "Sorry, what?"

"You know, we had a good chat last week. It was fun. Cool. But I would say that this-" he motioned to the group as a whole, "has a very obvious expiration date."

_You can't be serious. _

Peeta turned his attention to Gale, smiling curtly, "And since you and all your manliness are decidedly _not_ Finnick's type, my wingman duties are over."

Finnick shifted uneasily, shooting Peeta an awkward glance, "Uh…Peet…the fuck, dude?!"

Katniss scowled, folding her arms, "No, it's fine. I wouldn't want to get between you and your next conquest. Especially seeing as you got completely owned last time." She rolled her eyes, turning away from Peeta. Finnick flashed an apologetic smile, tugging him towards the exit. She vaguely heard them swearing under their breath before the oak doors swung shut.

"Well," Gale started, letting out a low whistle, "That definitely calls for a drink."

_Or ten._

__

"What a complete pig." Katniss exclaimed, shaking her head, "He was funny, and charming – and _he_ asked for _my_ number. Then BAM! Enter: Mr Hyde." She furrowed her brow in confusion.

_Prick should give up music and try acting, with that performance last week._

"According to you, they always start out nice. " Gale countered, "Besides, let's not forget that you did meet him in a pub, after you watched him strike out with a hooker."

_Touche. _

"I don't know if she was an _actual_ hooker, Gale. She might have just been doing a really remarkable impersonation."

He looked at her pointedly, "And that changes the facts how?"

_Well, it lowers the level of sleaze exponentially. _

"You're right." She leant back in her chair, "Just a bit of a fail, ya know?"

Gale laughed, "Welcome to your life."

"Fuck you." She smirked, "You just volunteered to buy the next round."

They moved towards the bar, Gale ordering for the both of them. It was just past 8:00 now, and Katniss could see the evening DJ setting up in the corner. She pulled her hair back, absent-mindedly braiding it to one side.

_Why come at all if he just wanted to fuck around? What's that achieve? _

"Earth to Catnip!" Gale waved a glass in front of her, breaking her trance, "Jeez woman – get over it! We didn't come here to see him anyway!"

_It was just a huge fucking bonus. _

"We're here to celebrate! You're finally going to get out of the district, Kat!" he clinked their glasses together before handing one to Katniss.

She stared at her drink, suddenly enraged that she had let some total stranger piss her off so badly. "You're right, Gale. So fucking right! I'm a bloody legend!" She downed her drink in one go, motioning to the bartender that she wanted another.

"I'll drink to that!"

Heavy bass music wound its way through the pub as the DJ began to play. Katniss bobbed to the beat, thoroughly enjoying the speed at which the vodka had reached her head. Gale was laughing at her, but she didn't care.

"I just landed the biggest promotion of my career! Without the use of velcro pants!" She announced proudly, reaching for her newly filled glass.

"…Okay, " Gale smirk, swigging his beer, "To a distinct lack of velcro pants!"

"To ignoring the past and moving forward!" They clinked their glasses one last time.

_And to forgetting Peeta Mellark, Asswipe Extraordinaire! _


	4. Chapter 4

"…And that's it, really. Apart from filling out the orientation paperwork, of course."

Katniss nodded at her new boss. He was a short man, maybe in his 40's, with bushy grey eyebrows and a thick moustache – the latter seemingly compensating for his shiny bald head. His black button-down shirt was two sizes too small, and she could see two buttons in particular suffering from the stress of his fast food fetish. He was friendly, though, and Katniss had decided early on that she liked him.

"I'm sure you know us hiring someone from your district is a bit…unorthodox." He started, 'But I really do think you'll be a great fit!"

Katniss nodded again, clutching her welcome kit tightly, "Thank you, Mr Beetee. I won't let you down."

He chuckled, stopping in front of a solid white door, "I'm quite sure, Miss Everdeen. Now, are you ready to meet your new team?"

_No. _

"Sure!"

Mr Beetee pushed the door open, allowing Katniss to go in first. A large table was in the centre of the room, with three men sitting at the far left side. Her eyes locked onto a pair of bright blue ones instantly.

_Get. Fucked. _

The folder fell, freeing her fists to clench at her sides. She watched Peeta's brow furrow in confusion; his hand swat absent-mindedly at Finnick's persistent nudging; his eyes never leaving hers.

"Whoops!" Mr Beetee chuckled again, bending to pick up the fallen was a grunt as he pushed himself back on to his feet, returning the folder to Katniss. She tore her eyes away and thanked her boss, forcing a smile as wide as her face would allow.

Appeased, he turned to face their audience. "So, lads, it seems our newest group member likes to make an entrance!" There was a beat of silence as he waited for someone to laugh. No one did. "Unfortunately Faux had to take on another position quite suddenly, which left us momentarily ill-equipped, to say the least! But I'm very happy to introduce her replacement, Miss Katniss Everdeen!"

_Keep it together, Everdeen. He's just a regular asshole. Nothing unusual._

She waved slightly, her frozen smile still in place. Finnick waved back, nudging Peeta yet again.

"Katniss, this is Cato, Finnick and-"

"Peeta." She finished his sentence before she could stop herself.

"Oh! So you two know each other?"

"You could say that." She smiled purposefully at Peeta, her eyes cold.

_Or you could say I've just experienced the fucktard first-hand._

"Well that's excellent! The ice is broken already!" Mr Beetee clapped his hands together, oblivious to any tension, "So, for those of you who don't know, Miss Everdeen has been working in the industry for a long time. She's come highly recommended from our friends over at Thresh Management, and I think her fresh perspective is exactly what Mockingjay needs to expand their market. I expect this to go swimmingly!"

His speech complete, Mr Beetee stopped and looked expectantly at the men. The silence lasted longer than it should have before the third member of the band finally stood and moved towards her.

Cato held out his hand, "It's really great to meet you."

Katniss accepted his hand, shaking it firmly, "Thank you. Cato, right?"

Mr Beetee smiled warmly before glancing at his watch. "Right, then. That's the tough part over. Have fun kids!" He exited quickly, humming something cheery.

_Apparently Mr Beetee has not experienced said Fucktard._

The door shut silently, sealing the tension inside. Katniss took a deep breath, shifting her weight.

"So, um – let's get right into it? Mr Beetee said you guys have some public appearances coming up. I thought we could work out a bit of a schedule and-"

"At least it all makes sense now." Peeta leant forward in his chair, cupping his chin in his hand.

"I'm sorry?"

"Got the job and figured you'd do some personal re-con work, is that it? See what the front-man is like in his natural habitat?"

"No?"

_Although you wouldn't be out of place in a zoo._

"Right. So you expect me to believe this is all just a coincidence." He sat back now, folding his arms defiantly.

"Actually, yes I do." Katniss mirrored his stance,"All I received was generic information. I didn't even know which band I'd been assigned to until I entered this room."

"Bullshit." He scoffed, "The charming introduction, the mysterious exit, the trying to make me jealous…none of that had anything to do with this?"

"No!" She paused, mentally replaying his words, "…Wait-"

"Let's hit pause on this whole he said she said merry-go-round, shall we? Maybe it would be more productive to shut up and just agree to disagree?" Cato pulled out a chair and moitioned for Katniss to sit.

"Suits me."

_Trying to get you jealous? …The fuck?_

"Peet?" Cato turned his attention to her sparring partner, "If we're gonna be in this for the long haul, you gotta try."

"…Fine. I'll _try_."

"Good. So. You were saying, Katniss? About the schedule?"

"Right. Yeah…" Katniss shuffled through her paperwork, finding the timetable she'd drawn up earlier, "As I started earlier, I think being more organised could really be the turning point here…"

* * *

_Why would he think I'm trying to make him jealous?_

An hour later, the meeting had finished. Katniss had only just managed to keep her mind on the set agenda, and as she bundled her paperwork back into her folder, it drifted back to her confrontation with Peeta.

"Need a hand?"

Finnick's voice jolted her back to reality, "Finnick! Don't sneak up on a girl like that!"

He smiled apologetically and handed her some pages she'd missed, "Sorry…honest mistake." They stood in silence for a while - her organising and him watching. They were alone now, Peeta and Cato having mentioned something about starving children in developing nations being less hungry before exiting hastily.

"He doesn't mean to be an asshole!"

Katniss looked at Finnick, confused.

"I mean, he knows when he's doing it, don't get me wrong." He stammered, suddenly fascinated by the table beside them, "But it's just a a defence mechanism; his go-to trick to avoid feelings."

"No one asked him to feel anything, Finn. He defaulted to asswipe all on his own."

"It was Gale that set him off."

"Pardon?"

"That's why he was such a jerk. Gale."

Katniss rolled her eyes, "Gale was perfectly nice to Peeta."

_…to his face._

"Yeah...but he was _there_."

"So?"

Finnick didn't respond. His forehead was creased in deep thought, his fingers absent-mindedly tracing patterns in the wood grain. She sighed heavily and made her way to the door.

_Good work, Kat. Piss off another third of the band._

"You know, he almost didn't even show up." Finnick was standing behind her now, his tone firm. "He tried to play it off like he didn't care – but something about you made him nervous. And then we walked in…and Gale was there."

"What difference would that make?" Katniss spun around, "I told him I would be there with a friend!"

"Do you think that if he had thought for even a moment that your 'friend' would be a guy, he would he have promised me female attention?"

_Yes._

"That situation is intimidating as fuck for any man – even Peeta. He reacted badly-"

_He's reactING badly._

"-but cut him some slack. He's a good guy, Katniss. And he's not any happier with how this has turned out than you are - he's just trying to save face." Finnick pushed past Katniss, closing the door behind him.

_Katniss Everdeen, Asshole Extraordinnaire. _

* * *

Peeta picked at his plate, his hunger nonexistant.

_Of all the fucking people! Her!_

He pulled his sunglasses down over his eyes and leant back, enjoying the sun. This district didn't often get bright sunny days, so he wanted to make the most of it. It only took a moment for her shadow to ruin it.

"Mind if I sit?"

Peeta shrugged.

_Wouldn't mind if you fucked off, either._

"So…someone upstairs has a pretty good sense of humour…"

He nodded, "Apparently."

_I'm the laughing stock of my own bloody life._

The conversation stalled. It was apparent she had something she wanted to say; some specific reason she's showed up. He would've asked, but he was mildly entertained by her obvious discomfort. Suddenly, she looked up.

"I'm sorry about Gale."

Peeta straightened in his chair. "What?"

Katniss played with the end of her braid nervously, "About Gale. The other night. Finnick said him being there upset you."

_Fucking Odair!_

"It's…he didn't…it wasn't…" Peeta stumbled over his words, looking for the right ones.

"He's my best friend – that's all. I wasn't trying to…I mean, we were going to be there anyway. To celebrate this job, actually. Which is sort of ironic if you think about it...Either way, I didn't mean anything by it. So if that's why you were being so foul-"

"I didn't care." He interrupted, "I mean…I don't care."

"Oh."

_Smooth, Mellark._

They sat in an awkward silence, Katniss braiding and unbraiding her hair, Peeta cleaning an imaginary speck off of his sunglasses.

"Look," he breathed out heavily, "we'll be working together for a while. And we did get along well for a little while." He offered her a small smile.

She returned it without hesitation, "That's true. Maybe we just need to be surrounded by alcohol and public indecency in order to place nice."

_You won't catch me objecting._

"Obviously a contender for the best workplace ever."

"Fuck it." She stuck out her hand, "Friends?"

"We'll _try_." Peeta shook her hand, smiling wryly.

Silence returned, though this time without the awkwardness. It was Peeta who spoke first.

"So how many times have you boned him?"

"Huh?"

"That Gale dude…you know, 'the best friend'?" Peeta used quotation marks, rolling his eyes, "How many times?"

"Uh…none!"

"As if."

"Seriously!" She scrunched up her nose with disgust, "I would never go there."

Peeta raised one eyebrow, "Never?"

She shook her head emphatically.

"He would." Peeta sipped his water thoughtfuly, "Go there, I mean."

She scrunched up her face again, "No, he really wouldn't."

Peeta scoffed, "I guarantee you're wrong."

"We've been friends since we were kids. He's like…my brother!"

_Welcome to the friendzone. Population: Gale._

"Doesn't mean you're like his sister."

"You were only with him for all of five minutes – what could you have possibly seen in that time to make you so sure?"

"Just…I could tell."

"Wow. So descriptive. I feel like I was there."

"Shut up! Guys know these things, alright?"

"What's your proof?"

_You're hot. _

"You're female."

"So is half the population. I know Gale. It's not like that – for either of us."

Peeta shook his head, amused, "Alright…if you say so!"

"I do!" she insisted, "So unless you have actual proof…"

He threw his hands up in defeat, "Okay, okay...you win."

She smiled, standing up, "Thank you. Now, shall we?"

He threw some money on the table and grabbed his jacket, "You're really making this friendship thing difficult, Everdeen."

"You have no idea, Mellark."


	5. Chapter 5

Katniss wasn't certain that love – proper, romantic love – existed. She'd always figured it was something The Capitol had created to enhance the benefits of cohabitation or something. But now, seeing the way he smiled at the mere mention of her name, all of Katniss' beliefs were called into question.

"She snuck up on me!" Finnick fell back into the desk chair, his force pushing it towards the wall. "I'm a goner!"

"Did her last name manage to sneak up on you too?" Peeta enquired, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Annie…Annie…"

"I sense that I'm proving a point here."

Cato threw a pillow at Peeta, hitting him square in the face, "Since when have you been such a stickler for last names, Mellark?"

"Or first!" Finnick chimed in, laughing, "Besides, it'll be Annie Odair soon enough!"

"'Desperado' by The Eagles would be the perfect wedding song."

_Stealing my lines now, are we?_

Peeta winked at her, "I bet Katniss would agree with me."

She opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off, "Katniss would do no such thing! She's a true romantic – I can tell." Finnick nodded firmly.

_I'm a what now?_

"Why? Because she's a girl?" Peeta scoffed, "Everdeen doesn't have a romantic bone in her body."

_None that you'd be aware of._

"How could you possibly know that?" Cato raised one eyebrow.

"It's been a month, Cat – and little Miss over here hasn't noticed one chap. Not one!"

_That's not entirely true…there has been one…_

"Maybe she's just selective?"

_Or maybe I should be._

"Pfft!" Peeta waved a hand in the air indifferently, "She's not selective, she's disinterested."

"Turning Peeta Mellark down is indicative of dignity, not disinterest."

"Ooh! Alert the hospital – Peeta's going to be making a trip to the burn ward!" Finnick raised his hand towards her, prompting Katniss to meet him in the middle for a loud high-five.

"Hang on, hang on – so you didn't shoot me down because you weren't interested?" He looked at her pointedly, a small smile playing on his lips.

Katniss rolled her eyes, "Don't read into it, Mellark."

"I'm just saying…"

Katniss glanced at her watch, "Sorry chaps – but one of us around here has to do their job."

"I'm going to take that as a "watch this space" sort of thing!"

_That makes two of us._

As she walked towards the stairs, she heard unmistakable thud of another pillow hitting Peeta in the face.

* * *

Upstairs, Katniss made herself comfortable on the bed, her work scattered across the bedspread. She sighed heavily and pulled a binder labelled "FINANCES" onto her lap. Her hatred of spreadsheets wasn't new, however since joining the band they seemed to be multiplying out of spite. Her eyes settled on the invoice for their most recent accommodation expenses and she smiled to herself, remembering a moment back at the hotel…

_Approaching the desk, she could only make out a mess of dark red hair – its owner furiously typing on a computer. Finnick was the only one beside her – the others too preoccupied with the hotel pool._

_"It's Winter – this body doesn't do shirtless in Winter." – that's what he'd insisted._

_Katniss cleared her throat loudly, causing the redheaded girl to look up suddenly. "Sorry to interrupt-"_

_"Not at all!" The girl smiled broadly and Katniss caught her name badge glint in the light._

Annie_. _

_"How can I help you?"_

_"We're staying in Room 327, and my access key isn't working. I was just hoping to get it replaced?"_

_"Sure! Do you have the damaged one?"_

_Katniss turned to face Finnick, "Yeah – Finn, where's the card?"_

_Finnick didn't hear her. He was staring at Annie, his mouth agape. Katniss was positive she could see the slight sheen of saliva at the corner of his mouth._

_"Finn!"_

_"Huh? Oh!" He snapped out of his trance, handing Katniss the card. _

_"Sorry about that." She handed Annie the card, grimacing, "He's the one we get special funding for."_

_Annie giggled and swiped the card, shifting her gaze to the computer. She didn't see Finnick elbow Katniss. Or wipe the drool away. After a moment, she looked up, her eyes wide._

_"You're from Mockingjay!" _

_Finnick smiled, rubbing the back of his neck, "Um. Yeah. Sort of."_

_Annie bounced on her toes, clapping. Katniss swore she heard a squeal. "I _love_ Mockingjay! I can't believe I didn't recognise you! My cousin Madge bought your EP, like, a month ago and burnt me a copy. …This is just the coolest!"_

_"The boys and I are working on some new stuff at the moment – you should come and check it out some time."_

_Katniss rolled her eyes._

_"That would be amazing. Amazing!" She clapped again, "I'm Annie, by the way."_

_"Finnick."_

Katniss smiled again at the memory, her pen stationary on the paper.

_It really can be that simple._

The door opened suddenly, a silent wave and a small smile all the introduction Cato needed. "Busy? Not pillow-fighting with grown men is a boundary I want to maintain."

"Not anymore." She pushed the paperwork aside and beckoned him over, "Spreadsheets and invoices be damned!"

He lowered himself into an armchair, "So. Finnick and Annie, huh?" He let out a low whistle, "Talk about out of the blue."

Katniss shrugged, "I don't know…is it really? I mean, this is Finn we're talking about. He's been on the hunt since the Dark Ages."

"True. But luck has rarely been on his side."

Katniss thought back to the night she'd met their auburn-haired friend.

_Finnick "Full-On" Odair._

"It happened so fast…she hadn't even said a word and he was drooling."

Cato laughed, "Not entirely an out-of-place occurrence." He paused, "It just doesn't usually end too well. Hopefully this time will be different. …She seems sweet."

"I guess we'll see tonight!"

"Ah! Band dinner! I almost forgot. She's coming, isn't she?"

Katniss nodded, "You missed Finn's verbal memos? …It'll be good, I think. To get out as a group and enjoy ourselves."

"Hopefully. Depends how determined Peeta is."

Katniss tried to keep her face blank, "Oh?"

"Being that we make more of an impact as a trio, he has a habit of using these outings as a segue to groupie sex." Cato shrugged impassively, "Tends to mean our bonding time is limited."

"I must have missed that."

_Or blocked it out._

"Maybe because Finn's bringing Annie he'll make the effort to stay."

"Uh huh. Maybe."

_And I'll keep making the effort to stay away._

Cato stared at Katniss, deep creases forming in his forehead. It was clear he knew something with her was off – she was just praying he wouldn't ask what. After a prolonged moment, his face relaxed and he stood up, stretching. "Well. I should let you get back to this. I have two men to go and babysit!"

Katniss grinned, suppressing a sigh of relief, "I wouldn't want to detract from such an important task!"

He smiled and waved again as he left her room, the door clicking softly as he pulled it shut. Over the last few weeks, Katniss had grown fond of all the guys. Finnick was the lovable goofball, and Peeta was…well - she wasn't going near that one. But Cato reminded her most of Gale; of home. He was the one that kept the team grounded; who checked in and made sure everyone was doing okay.

_He's a good egg._

But he had noticed something was off. She had to work harder to keep those things supressed; hidden. It wasn't like it could go anywhere, anyway. Katniss wasn't even sure she wanted it to. She and Peeta were friends. And yes, maybe he was funny, cute, intelligent, charming, talented…

She shook her head resolutely. Regardless of all of that, or perhaps in addition to it, he was a player. He wasn't malicious about it – just honest. And Katniss Everdeen would not become a notch in his bedpost. Sliding off the side of the bed, she flexed her toes, the numbness of sitting cross-legged for so long only now becoming apparent.

_He's not the guy for you. He's not even _A_ guy for you. Move on, Everdeen._

* * *

Adjusting her skirt as she sat down, Katniss wondered for the millionth time if she should have gone with one of the 30 other options sprawled across her bed. Looking around, it occurred to her that the combination she'd decided on made it look like she was trying too hard. Peeta sat down beside her, his hand brushing over hers briefly as he pulled in his chair.

"You having clothing difficulties, Everdeen?" he smiled wryly, tilting his head towards the skirt she was still tugging on.

"Oh. No. Um. It's just new is all, and-"

"You look nice."

Katniss looked down, feeling herself grow hot with the compliment. "Cheers."

Peeta shrugged and turned his attention to Finnick, "So when is the future Mrs Odair arriving?"

"She said she'd text when she's here." He'd barely finished the sentence when his phone chimed. "I'll be back!"

The three of them watched Finnick's retreating figure, an identical bemused expression on each of their faces.

"You reckon she's as interested as he is?"

Cato picked up his menu, perusing the options, "I reckon we should all be incredibly welcoming until we can tell for sure." He shot a look at Peeta.

"Geez, Cat. Anyone would think I'm the Grinch who stole romance the way you're carrying on."

"Good. Wouldn't want anyone to be misled."

"Calm your farm, Cat. I'll behave."

"And if you're lucky, he might even be nice." Katniss smiled smugly.

"You make it sound as though charming people is difficult for me."

"You have evidence to suggest I'm wrong?"

Peeta looked at Katniss, false shock scrawled across his features.

"Time to prove your point, Mellark." Cato nodded towards the door.

"Watch and learn, Everdeen."

Finnick and Annie made their way over to the table, their fingers intertwined. "Guys, you remember Annie. Annie, this is…everyone."

The young redhead smiled broadly, "Of course! Cato, Katniss and Peety!"

Peeta's smile faltered, "Uh…actually-"

Finnick leant over and whispered in her ear, "Oh! I'm so sorry! Peeta. Peet-A!" She giggled, sitting down.

"No harm done, honey. Easy mistake to make."

A sharp kick from across the table signified it was time for Peeta to contribute. "Yeah. It's all good."

There was a lull in conversation, before Cato turned to Annie and Finnick, apparently captivating them with a funny anecdote. Katniss could make out the words "alley" and "misunderstanding" – she didn't want to know anything else. Directing her attention to the menu, she looked over her options.

_Maybe I'm in a red-meat mood…ribs would be good!_

"What are you getting?" Peeta leant over, nudging her elbow.

"Dunno yet."

"It's not going to be salad, is it?" He scrunched up his nose.

"Ha! Have you ever, in the entire time we've known each other, seen me eat anything that looks remotely healthy?"

"…Touche. I just can't stand it when I'm on a date and a girl orders a salad. Side salads are acceptable, as long as what they accompany is proper food. But _just_ a salad? Dealbreaker."

_Interesting criteria._

"So having legs more spreadable than butter is a big plus, but ordering a salad means no go?"

"What? No! I'll still _go_!" he laughed, "I just won't go _again_."

_Typical._

"I didn't think you ever 'went again'…" She kept her eyes on her menu, only glancing at him in her peripheral vision.

"Oh yeah. If she's willing, and I'm able…who would I be if I turned that down?"

_Definitely not Peeta Mellark._

"It's practially your civic duty." Katniss added dryly.

"It's just when they think it's going somewhere other than back to the bedroom; that's when it gets awkward."

"So you've never gone on a date with someone; never gone after a girl…just to get to know her?"

Peeta winked.

"I'm serious, Mellark. You've never wanted something more?" She turned to look him in the eye, but found his gaze resolutely downcast. The awkward silence halted their conversation. She could hear Annie and Finnick laughing as Cato finished his story. This time she heard "naked" and "backwards" – she was glad she missed the rest.

_Once again my foot-in-mouth disease rears its ugly head._

Katniss self-consciously shifted in her seat as the silence extended for a beat longer,. "I'll probably get the steak. Though the ribs look really good."

Another beat of silence.

"…I'll get the ribs and we can share?" he offered, a half-smile on his features.

Katniss nodded, exhaling internally. "Awesome."

"But the beer is all mine."

"Along with the bloatage."

The waitress arrived shortly afterwards, and dinner continued like clockwork. Annie was charming, and it only took until the main course for Katniss to decide she was perfect for Finnick. The banter flowed easily; the team bonding surged on without a hitch. Katniss couldn't help but notice, however, that Peeta seemed to be working to keep her attention.

Whenever he made a joke, he made a point of nudging her until she laughed. When their meals came, he insisted on eating off of each others plates rather than dividing the food. And when it was time for the bill to be paid, he invited her along for the trip to the ATM.

_Eagerly confused. That's how I'll put it._

* * *

Peeta looked at Katniss as she walked slowly beside him. The ATM was only a block away, but he noticed that both of them seemed to be trying to stretch the walk out. He was looking for something to say; something funny, or interesting.

"I haven't always looked for one-trick fucks."

They both stopped.

_Fuck._

"That came out wrong."

"No, Peeta, I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have pushed it before." Katniss looked at the ground, her hands absent mindedly finding her hair.

_She's nervous._

"It's okay." He took a deep breath, trying to find the words to continue. "It's just that over the years, I've found that life in general is easier when you lower your expectations."

_The women are easier, too._

"…But then you never get what you really want."

"That's not true. I've got Mockingjay, and the lads. And the excessively regular sex isn't bad." He forced a smile, nudging her.

She smiled back hesitantly, and their pace resumed. "So what happens when you find a girl you really like?"

Peeta shrugged, "I'll let you know if it happens."

"…When." Katniss stated confidently, "When it happens." Her hands had left her hair now, instead finding a home in her in her coat pockets.

"You sound confident."

"I am."

_That makes one of us._

She looked at him, an emotion he couldn't quite place flickering across her face. "You can be rather wonderful, when you want to be."

His pace faltered, and she laughed.

_You can be rather wonderful when you don't even mean to be._

"Don't tell Cat and Finn I said that, by the way. I promised them I wouldn't give you the ego boost."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

They'd reached their destination, and Katniss watched as Peeta withdrew his money. They had turned to head back when a familiar face caught his eye.

"Hey, gorgeous."

Faux smiled slyly as she sauntered across the street, the split in her dress revealing next to everything.

"…Wow…hey…" Peeta rubbed the back of his neck, "Uh…Katniss, this is-"

"-a friend." She'd stopped in front of them now, positioning herself so that her back was slightly towards Katniss.

"Hi…" Katniss extended her arm, but Faux let it hang in the air, her attention squarely on him.

"Um, Kat? Could you maybe run this back to the guys? If I keep them waiting too long they'll think I've skimped them." He pushed the money into Katniss' outstrecthed hand.

She smiled tightly, "…Sure. Yeah."

"Thanks."

Faux waited exactly 3 seconds after Katniss had started back towards the restaurant. "So, fancy seeing you here."

"Yeah, fancy that." Peeta strained his neck to watch Katniss.

_Hope she's alright…_

"She'll be fine, Peeta. She's a big girl." She placed her hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at her. "So, how's things?"

"Uh. Fine. Mockingjay are doing really well. Katniss has helped us tour on a better budget so-"

"She's my replacement, then?" Faux rolled her eyes, "It's a shame I got fired, you know. We certainly could have had some fun…all those hotel rooms…"

"Fired? Beetee said you transferred."

She laughed, "No, hun. I got fired. I was too 'involved' with some of the clientele."

Peeta looked at her, his eyes subconsciously stopping to rest on her chest, "That's too bad."

"I'm sure you could make it better." She smiled coyly, "My hotel is just a few streets away…"

"Oh. Um. Thanks, but no thanks."

_No thanks?! _

"You sure? I'll make it worth your while."

"It's just a bit late, I think. And we've got an early sound check in the morning, so…you know."

_What the fuck am I doing?!_

Faux shrugged, "Shame."

_It really is._

"If you change your mind…" she handed him a card, "I'm in Room 215."

Peeta nodded his thanks and watched as Faux turned and sauntered away – just the same as she'd arrived. How the hell had he turned that down?

_Fuck._

Faux was hot. And she was easy.

_How much more up my alley could a girl get?!_

He stuffed his hands into his pockets and began making his way back towards the restaurant. How had that gone so wrong? Why did he _keep_ saying no?! He remembered the conversation he'd had with Cato weeks ago; where he'd promised he'd try to be more responsible.

_I turned down a sure-fuck for Mockingjay. That's what happened. Stupid, but permissible._

He found the rest of the group waiting in the restaurant's carpark. "Hey – thanks for waiting."

Katniss spun around. "Oh. I wasn't sure you were going to make it back!" she laughed awkwardly, her hands finishing off a braid. He noticed her exhale deeply.

_Is that…relief?_

"We thought we'd lost you on one of your bedroom pursuits!" Cato laughed, tossing Peeta the car keys.

_You should have._

* * *

Back at the hotel, Peeta was pacing in front of his bed. A knock at the door broke his rhythm and he turned in time to see Katniss walking in.

"Sorry, I know it's late. I just wanted to remind you about sound check tomorrow. 9am."

"I'll be there."

She nodded and offered him a wave as she left. "Okay. Goodnight, Peeta."

The door clicked softly behind her, leaving him in silence.

_Fuck. …FUCK._

It was Katniss. He'd turned down Faux because of Katniss; because of her feelings. …Because of _his_ feelings?

_Fuck that._

rummaging in his pocket, he pulled out the card Faux had given him.

_Room 215._

Peeta threw on his shoes and grabbed the keys from his nightstand.

_There is no 'when'._


	6. Chapter 6

An odd feeling of déjà vu washed over Peeta as he opened his eyes, fresh daylight streaming through the window. As his eyes adjusted to the assault of light, the previous evening replayed in his mind: sneaking out of his hotel, meeting Faux in her room, finding out first-hand why her getting fired was such a disappointment…

_And he's back in the game!_

Just as he was contemplating getting up, he felt a hand snaking its way across his chest, its path distinctly southbound.

"Rise and shine."

Peeta rolled over, a smug smile on his features.

_Already halfway there._

Faux squealed as he pulled her under him, his bare body hovering over hers. "Well, well. What do we have here?"

He paused, his head tilted to one side. "Do you hear that?" Moving over slightly, he listened hard, "What's that sound?"

"All I hear, Mellark, is the sound of my engine going cold."

"Something's buzzing…" he looked towards the side table just in time to see his phone stop flashing. "Shit! What time is it? Why didn't I hear the alarm?!"

Faux sat up against the headboard, her bare chest hidden by the thin white sheet, "I do have a habit of wearing people out…Oops."

Peeta pulled his clothes on roughly, not paying attention, "I am so screwed."

"You could be." She purred, "All we have to do is tell whoever that is to fuck the hell off." She glanced at the screen, a look of disgust flashing across her features, "Ugh. Miss Everdeen wants to know when you'll be at soundcheck."

_Katniss. Shit._

"Thanks Faux. You were great." He picked up his phone, not daring to look at the messages that were waiting.

"I know."

* * *

"11:17am. Who picked that time in the pool?"

_So Cato's pissed. No surprises there._

"Can't be me, since I put my money on him being a no-show." Finnick's scowl followed Peeta as he made his way across the room.

Katniss moved forward, her gaze downcast.

"What about you, Everdeen? You win?"

She glanced up quickly before turning back to the clipboard in her hand, "You know I didn't bet, Cato."

"Looks like we all lose, then." He looked pointedly at Peeta, his eyes cold, "At least we _tried_."

"I'm sorry guys. I slept through the alarm."

"Guess you must have slept through me banging on the door, too."

"Guess so."

Cato stepped towards Peeta, his shoulders squared.

"Guys-" Katniss stood between the men, her hands in the air, "He's here now, okay? So fuck whatever happened before 11:17am, and let's get a wriggle on. Please?"

The tense silence extended, neither man seeming to have anything to say. Finally, Finnick stepped forward, placing a hand on Cato's shoulder.

"Cat, can you come over and check the set list for tonight?"

Cato eased his stance, turning to face his friend, "Yeah…yeah, no worries." He followed Finnick over to the keyboard, his guitar slung over his shoulder.

"Cheers for that." Peeta grinned at Katniss, "Your timing was a bit off, but we can work on it."

"I didn't do it for you."

"I know. It's just that the lads seem to be a bit obsessed with what goes on behind band doors and-"

She slammed a folder into his chest, cutting him off, "Look – I don't give two shits where or when you drop trowel, Mellark. But tonight is important, and I will _not_ be the one explaining to Beetee that it went to shit because the front man can't keep it in his pants. So get your crap together and do your god damn job." She spun on her heel and stormed out of the room, leaving Peeta alone.

_I didn't half fuck up._

Confused, Peeta made his way towards the stage. Cato and Finnick were working on some melody changes, and the technicians were testing equipment; everything was going according to plan. His being late really hadn't been an issue. So why was it worth the effort to get so worked up? What was the point? They knew who he was. Hell, they were the only two people on earth that knew _why_. And yet they kept being disappointed.

_Peeta Mellark: Let-down personified._

And then there was Katniss. He thought back to their dinner the previous night, the walk – being himself with her was so easy. _Staying_ himself had seemed like a genuine possibility. But then she'd gone and decided that he was a disappointment – just like everyone else.

Dejected, Peeta sat down at the front of the stage. He found a pen and notepad inside Katniss' folder.

_This, I can do._

Words started appearing on the page. Some would be crossed out and replaced immediately, others eventually resembling verses.

"You're writing?"

"Shit!" Peeta jumped at the sound of Finnick's voice, his pen falling, "The fuck, dude?"

"Sorry." Finnick retrieved the pen before taking a seat beside him, "But – you're writing. You have done that for…shit. A long time."

"Didn't have much to say."

Finnick nodded thoughtfully, "Can I see?"

"No." he closed the folder quickly before moving it away from Finnick for good measure, "What did you want, anyway?"

"…I was just going to ask if you knew where Kat had gotten to."

Peeta shrugged, 'I tried to talk to her before but she stormed off. I haven't seen her since."

Finnick sighed heavily, "Man. What did you say?"

"Why do you assume it's me?"

"It wasn't?"

Peeta folded his arms. "That's hardly the point."

"Look, you being MIA this morning pissed us all off-"

"Yeah – I got the memo."

"-But it legitimately _upset_ Katniss."

Peeta shot a sideways glance at Finnick, his arms still folded. "What are you trying to say?"

"She…she's invested, Peet."

"In the band."

"No…well, yes…" Finnick rubbed his neck, his head down, "But also in you."

_Fuck._

"What?"

"She's positive she knows where you were last night. And she's doing her best to hide it, but she's really worked up."

"And? You and Cat were worked up too."

"Stop being dense, Mellark. You know what I'm getting at."

"…You think we have feelings for each other."

"Mutual feelings? As in, from your side, too?" Finnick let out a short laugh, "Shit – I wouldn't touch that with a barge pole."

_Neither would I._

"So…you're saying she fancies me?"

"What do you think?"

_I don't know what to think._

"You're wrong, Odair."

He shrugged. "Then at least be careful. She's good value."

_Fuck oath._

Finnick walked back over to his keyboard, leaving Peeta with his thoughts. Katniss had feelings for him? Not the one-night-stand inclinations he'd come to expect, but proper, legitimate feelings?

_Fucking ridiculous! As if Everdeen would have feelings for me. She'd be too busy pining after some Gale-esque asshole._

Finnick knew nothing. That, Peeta decided, was obvious. He'd made an assumption based on jack shit. End of story.

_Still…wouldn't hurt to make sure._

* * *

"Fuck. My. Life." Katniss threw the tea towel onto the table, sighing with frustration. Three times she had done this: three sets of ingredients, three attempts at following the recipe, three total fucking failures.

_Trumped by baked goods._

"Everything okay?"

Katniss looked up to see Peeta standing in the doorway, a bemused smile blatantly plastered on his face.

"Nothing I can't handle."

He surveyed her mess, arching one eyebrow, "Some sort of kitchen-themed apocalypse?"

"Scones, actually."

Nodding, he moved towards the counter. "Pass the flour."

"Excuse you?"

He let out a dramatic sigh and batted his eyelashes. "Please?"

She rolled her eyes, party to look annoyed, and partly so that she could stop herself from staring. "I suppose you want the milk too?"

"Already on it."

She watched as Peeta worked the ingredients together, kneading and rolling the dough until it was soft and pliant. His face was calm as he worked, a trace of his previous smile lingering at the corners of his lips. It was the most relaxed Katniss had ever seen him. Finally, he piled the dough onto a board and covered it with the nearest hand towel.

"The dough needs to rest." He explained, pushing himself onto the counter.

"I know. Step four."

Peeta nodded again, grinning. "So what's with the baking attempts?'

Katniss shrugged, her hands reaching to pull her braid forward, "Just felt like some."

"Uh huh. You ever made them before?"

_No. That was Prim's job._

"Plenty of times. …How'd you become such an expert anyway?"

"Oh. Um. My parent's own a bakery." He looked down, fidgeting with his shirt hem.

"Really?" There was a beat of silence, "Too bad for them you're a musician then…"

Peeta didn't respond.

"Did they want you to take over the store?"

"Of course they did." Peeta shrugged, his eyes still downcast.

"But you didn't like it?"

"Not as much as music, I guess. But it wasn't too shit."

"Any chance you'd go back to it?"

Peeta raised his head to look at her, his face serious. "Only if Mum left."

_Wow._

Peeta didn't talk about his family often. He had older brothers – she knew that much. Cato had mentioned once that they'd left when Peeta was little, so he didn't know them well. Other than that, though, his childhood was a mystery.

_And now he's a baker._

"What's all this talk of career changes anyway?" You trying to tell me Mockingjay's in trouble, Everdeen?"

"Maybe." She laughed, "I do see the finances, after all."

He left the counter, moving back to the dough. "So when you bail, I'll know to follow."

"Start packing."

He laughed, separating the dough into scone-sized pieces.

_Who's joking?_

"If you help me clean up, I might even share them."

They fell into a comfortable silence; Katniss washing and Peeta drying. Glancing up at him, she noticed a speck of flour on his cheek.

"You missed a spot."

"Where?"

She pointed, laughing as he swiped at his face. "No – not there. Here – Peet just let me get it. You're hopeless."

He stood still as she reached up to remove the mark. Their bodies tensed as the small space between them disappeared. He smelt like musk and soap.

"Gone?" he asked softly.

She nodded.

Neither of them moved, their eyes locked.

_This is it._

Swallowing heavily, she moved slightly closer.

"Uh…" Peeta sidestepped, running a hand through his hair. "I think the scones are done."

_So it's not it?_

"Oh?"

"Good thing they didn't burn."

"…Yeah." Katniss forced her disappointment down, "Lucky you were here to save the day."

He nodded. She could see that something was on his mind.

_Evidently not what's on mine, though._

"So." He said suddenly, "Finnick was being a real douche before."

"How is this a unique story?"

He forced a laugh, leaning on the counter. "He kept trying to tell me that you, uh, fancy me…or something."

_Holy shit balls._

Katniss' eyes went wide. She hoped false shock would mask her embarrassment. "He said what?!"

"Yeah – can you believe it? Reckons that's why you got the shits this morning."

She noticed he was clutching the counter so tightly his knuckles were white, removing a hand only to quickly run it through his hair.

_Fucking Odair!_

"Well, obviously Finn isn't the brightest crayon in the box. I was pissed because you were an asshole."

"So it had nothing to do with me and Faux?"

_It had everything to do with you and Faux._

"Of course not. Don't be ridiculous, Mellark."

He exhaled heavily, his face relaxing into a smile. "Thank God."

"Don't hide your relief or anything. Fuck." Katniss flicked the towel at him.

"Don't be a tool. You know you're good value. I'm just bloody relieved that feelings aren't going to fuck it up. Finnick is such a fucking joke."

She forced a smile as wide as her face could bear. "The real joke is you thinking what he said could be true."

"Pfft! You know you'd love to get all up in this." He gestured to his body, adding a wink for good measure.

"Sloppy one hundred and forty-seconds aren't my style."

_…Starting now._

"That's exactly what a waitress said to me once…before she became number 142."

Katniss forced a laugh that sounded passably genuine.

_Time to fake it till you make it, Everdeen. _


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Just wanted to say a really quick THANK YOU for all the reviews - it's completely unexpected, but really, truly appreciated. **

**-Sam**

* * *

Katniss looked up and smiled as Cato approached her desk.

"Someone looks happy."

"Only two more hours, Cat. I can't fucking wait."

He picked up the photo frame that sat diligently beside her computer. "How long has it been since you've seen them?"

Katniss looked at the two smiling faces wistfully, "Too long. Especially Prim – she's a proper teenager now!"

"Sixteen, didn't you say?" Cato tilted his head to one side, his gaze steady on the girl with the blonde curls.

"Don't get any ideas, Cato."

"I was just asking!"

"And I'm telling: as far as you're concerned, Prim is about as appealing as a plank of wood. Got it?"

"I could say the same to you about this Gale chap!" He laughed, setting the photo down, "Between the Finnick and Annie Show and Peeta's rendezvous merry-go-round…you're my only go-to for normal!"

"I know. The last month has been full-on."

They both glanced across the room to where Peeta was sitting, a pad and pen in front of him.

"He has tried to be discreet, at least."

Cato nodded. "Creative, too! Remember the time his phone kept going off and he'd insisted it was only because someone had mixed his number up with Seneca Crane's?"

Katniss nodded, "But of course he had to answer it every single time – just to be polite." She grinned, "The best was when he told Finn he was running late because he'd tried to jump over the barrier and fell."

"Oh yeah! He bandaged his ankle and put on a limp for a solid 4 days! Effort!"

Katniss grinned at the memory. Mockingjay were doing well, and it appeared that their success as a band was directly proportional to Peeta's success as a walking, talking groupie endorsement.

"You two seem to be doing well, though." Cato turned his chair to look at her, his eyes serious, "More like you're…on the same page."

Her grin lessened, a small smile lingering in its absence. "Yeah…yeah I guess we are."

"To be honest, I thought for a while he was going to join you in your chapter."

_Me too._

"Friendship suits us better."

Cato's eyebrows shot up, her words surprising him. "Honest?"

Katniss thought back over the previous weeks. At first, knowing Peeta's absences were because of 'personal' commitments upset her. What did they have that she didn't? Why was that life so much more appealing? Why did she care? Of course, she would try to hide the hurt, false smiles and sarcastic remarks being her defence of choice. But no actual progress was being made. It wasn't until she'd caught him sizing up the fire escape at 2am one morning that the true reality hit: he was trying his hardest to hide his extra-curricular life from her. He was making up excuses, faking injuries, shimmying down fire escapes – just to spare her feelings. He cared. Maybe not in the way that Katniss had wanted, but he did. Somehow, having that validation made moving on seem logical; easy, even.

She and Peeta were friends. Good friends. Whatever moment they shared in the kitchen that day, it had passed. And now that she could see the light at the end of her rose-tinted tunnel, she was relieved. She'd made it.

"Honest."

* * *

"Catnip!" Gale pulled her out of the train, spinning.

"Shit! Gale! Put me down!"

He laughed, standing still but unwilling to let her go. "Something wrong?"

She struggled again, finally freeing herself from his grasp.

"Not the greeting I had in mind is all."

He arched an eyebrow, "Would a firm handshake suit you better?"

"Shut up, Hawthorne." She shoved him, a smirk appearing, "You know what I mean. Since when do we…ya know…hug?"

Gale swung her bag over his shoulder, "Since you've been gone for months, Everdeen. Our usual nod of complacency just wouldn't cut it."

"Making executive decisions again, I see."

It was his turn to nudge her now. "You ready to go home?"

_Home._

Pulling up outside of the familiar house, a sense of nostalgia swept over Katniss. This place that she had fought to escape; to forget, now seemed like the only place she'd want to be.

"Missed it?" Gale shut off the engine, his gaze following hers.

She nodded, opening the car door. "Missed who's in it, more."

As if on cue, the front door swung open, a mass of blonde curls hurtling down the path.

"Katniss!"

Slender arms wrapped themselves around her, their strength rivalling those of her best friend.

_Smells like fresh scones._

"I've missed you, little duck."

"I don't blame you." She pulled back and smiled matter-of-factly.

"Prim didn't think you were going to show." Gale leant against the open car door, his smile smug.

"Gale Hawthorne!" Prim stood back and stamped her foot, her hands on her hips. "That is NOT true!" she turned to face her sister. "All I said was that I didn't see what was so exciting about coming home when you could be travelling all around the districts!"

Her eyes were so earnest, Katniss couldn't help but laugh.

"Trust me; it's not as glamorous as it sounds."

"Prove it!"

The door slammed shut, and Gale started making his way up the path, "She'll tell you all about it in agonising detail." He promised, "Once she showers."

_Why did I miss you again?_

* * *

Two hours later, the three of them were sitting in front of the Everdeen's small television. The clock had just struck 8pm, and Prim had insisted they had to watch her favourite celebrity gossip show. The familiar face of Caesar Flickerman appeared on the screen, his ever-present blue hair matching his suit and tie.

_Doesn't this guy age?_

"If I ever meet him, remind me to ask where the fountain of eternal middle-age is." Gale commented, reading her thoughts.

"Ssh! They're on!"

Three familiar faces flashed on the screen. Katniss immediately recognised footage from a show they'd done in District 4 two weeks ago.

"Mockingjay! The next big thing in music, folks!"

"…in boring, vapid music maybe."

Caesar Flickerman looked at his co-host, a man called Claudius Templesmith that Katniss had never been fond of. "Usually, Claudius, I'd bow to your expertise on boring and vapid. However, in this instance, I really must insist you've heard the wrong CD." He flashed a toothy smile at the camera before continuing on to the next topic.

_If I ever meet him, remind me to bring a thank you card. Maybe with a fruit basket._

"What are they really like?" Prim turned to face Katniss, her interest in the show apparently gone.

"Well I've never met them personally, but I'd say Claudius is a bit of a twat. Caesar seems nice though."

"Katniss! You know who I mean."

She shrugged, feigning insolence. Prim opened her mouth to protest again, but was cut off by the shrill ringing of a phone.

"Saved by the bell!" Katniss hopped off the couch, taking her phone and making her way down the hall.

"Hello?"

"…Katniss. Hi." Peeta's voice was hushed.

"What's up, Mellark?" she entered a dark room, only realising after she found a familiar armchair that it was her old bedroom.

"I got back to the hotel and Cat told me you'd gone home? I thought that was next week."

"Nope. Today." She paused, checking her watch, "Where are you, anyway? Why are you whispering?"

"Oh. Um. I'm out at a restaurant getting dinner and this baby next to my table fell asleep, so I have to be quiet."

"Uh huh. So this whole restaurant-"

"It's more of a café, really."

"Sorry. This whole café is being quiet for one baby?"

"…Yes."

_What's that, number 167?_

She rolled her eyes. "Well then, I wouldn't want to keep you, what with you being so careful to let sleeping _babies_ lie and all."

"How long are you gone for?"

"It's only an overnight trip, Peeta. Gale's birthday is today – I'll be back tomorrow morning."

"Oh."

Several seconds of silence passed.

"I guess I just wanted to check you're okay."

"Well - I am. So...goodnight, Mellark."

"Okay. Yeah. G'night, Katniss."

The phone line went dead, leaving Katniss alone. It suddenly seemed strange, her sitting in a room filled with memories of her past while talking to someone so new. Looking around at the exceedingly familiar walls, it became blatantly clear how little she understood about Peeta Mellark.

A knock at the door snapped her back to reality. Prim was leaning on the door frame, clutching a bright pink binder.

"What's that?"

Prim perched on the side of the chair and handed Katniss the binder, "It's just something I made for you."

"Prim! You didn't have to do that!"

"That's what I told her." Gale appeared in the doorway, his hands shoved into his pockets. "In fact I believe my exact words were 'She's getting a present on MY birthday? Completely unnecessary.'"

Prim stuck her tongue out at Gale, before opening the pink cover. Articles and photos had been cut out and stuck onto the pages. Titles and captions had been carefully drawn or written all over in Prim's careful handwriting. It was page after page of Mockingjay.

"I know you're not in any of these." She started, "But you're behind it. …You planned it, and you organised it, and I wanted you to see how much you've done."

"That and she really enjoyed cutting out photos of the band."

"Shut it, Hawthorne!" the girls snapped in unison.

"It's great, Prim! Really, really great."

"I tried to find one of all of you – but you're not in any of them!"

"I like to stick behind the scenes." Katniss winked, putting an arm around her little sister, "But this is honestly the best surprise ever."

Prim smiled widely, "So will you tell me all the gossip now? What are they really like? Do they fight? What are the districts like?"

"You really want to know what they're like?"

Prim nodded emphatically.

"Well, Finnick is a really lovely goofball. Oh! And he went and got himself a girlfriend recently-"

"Annie." Prim interrupted, "She's in a couple of the photos I found. She's pretty."

Katniss nodded. "She's sweet, too."

"What about Cato?"

"Cato is sort of the strong silent type. I suppose he's the one that keeps us all in check."

"…Strong silent type…is he single?"

Katniss nodded.

"Thank god."

_…What?_

Katniss opened her mouth, wanting to dissuade Prim without making Cato sound like a prick.

"What about Peeta?" Gale interjected.

"Yeah! Peeta! What's he like? Is he single?"

Katniss threw Gale a grateful look. "Peeta…Peeta is a lot of things. You sort of never know what you're going to get. And I don't think he's the relationship type."

"Oh. He sounds high maintenance to me. Not like Cato – he's my favourite, anyway. You think I could ever meet them?"

_Not Cato._

"Um. Maybe?"

Gale laughed, "Until then, how about we get going? It IS my birthday after all, and this b'day boy is starving!"

* * *

It was only a small group at Greasy Sae's. Gale's mother and siblings took up half of the table, with Katniss, Prim and a couple of Gale's work friends making up the difference. She smiled at Thom, a co-worker of Gale's Katniss had known since high school.

"Thom! So good to see you!"

He returned the smile easily, "Well if it isn't Katniss Everdeen, band assistant extraordinaire!"

She blushed, sitting down beside him. "You make it sound way more important than it is! All I really do is pay bills and book hotel rooms."

He winked, and she laughed. A lanky man with shaggy, dark blonde hair sat down opposite her.

"Haymitch! Weren't sure you were going to make it!"

The man smiled and shook Thom's hand, "I wasn't going to – but then I thought 'Hey! Free booze!'…and here I am."

"That sounds about right!" Gale walked around the table, a firm hand on Haymitch's shoulder. "Have you met Katniss? She's sort of like the long-lost sister I never wanted."

"He's lying." Katniss insisted, "He's actually more like the lost puppy that followed me home one day."

"Ha!" Gale scoffed, "Who taught who how to survive in the woods?"

"It's at least 50/50 on that one, Hawthorne, and you know it."

Gale raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "I think someone's telling fibs."

"Pssh. Don't make me tell everyone about the time you shot yourself in the foot with my bow and arrow."

Gale pointed at her, smirking. "This isn't over, Everdeen." He returned to his chair beside his mother, laughing.

"You like the woods?" Haymitch asked, interrupting.

"Yeah – it's my "thing" I guess."

"That and touring the districts on the Capitol's dime." Thom added.

"Oh?"

Katniss felt herself flush. "Thom's exaggerating. I help out with a band – sort of like the Queen of Logistics. That's all."

"Which band?"

"Mockingjay."

Haymitch nodded thoughtfully. "Those three lads in tight jeans? Not really my scene."

"Well you're not exactly their target audience."

A bemused smile flashed across his features as he waved a waiter over. "I'll have two beers, thanks." He looked at Katniss expectantly, "And she'll have…"

"Vodka and raspberry."

"Two vodka and raspberries. Cheers."

Katniss raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"Two is always better than one."

"I suppose. Especially if I'm going to be sat opposite you all night."

Haymitch threw his head back, a loud appreciative laugh escaping. "I like you, darlin'. You've got spunk."

The drinks arrived, and Katniss watched in amazement as his first beer disappeared. "And it appears you have an overt fondness of alcohol."

He shrugged, "I don't let it define me."

"So there's a lot more to you than what you ingest?"

"Precisely."

"Such as?"

"Where should I start?"

The rest of the night flew by. Katniss assumed Gale had a good time, though she couldn't be sure. Her conversation with Haymitch had inadvertently lasted throughout dinner, and well into dessert. He was blunt, and crude, and unlike any person she'd ever come across.

"I'm sure you don't get this often," she began, "but you're truly a breath of fresh air."

"Oh, I get that _all_ the time – just minus the fresh bit."

A sharp kick to the shin alerted Katniss to the fact that Prim had made her way over. "Gale's heading back to the house."

"Okay. I'll meet you at the car."

Prim looked at her, then at Haymitch, confusion written across her delicate features. "Sure thing, Katniss."

Haymitch chuckled as he watched her petite figure retreat. "So. That story about when Gale's foot meets your arrow? It sounds good."

Katniss nodded. "It is."

"Then tell me about it. Tomorrow night."

"Oh, I can't. I'm heading back to work tomorrow morning."

"I know." He cracked open another beer, taking a swig. "Your dear Mockingjay are in District 5 tomorrow, yes? Just so happens I'll be there for work, too."

"Oh?"

"Yep."

Katniss hesitated. On the one hand, Haymitch was a cynical drunkard. But on the other, he was the guy who had entertained her all night. He was different, and maybe that's what she needed right now.

_Fuck it!_

She grinned, "Sounds like a mediocre plan, then."

* * *

"You're what?!"

"Jesus, Mellark – calm the fuck down. It's not as though I'm eloping with a circus clown."

Peeta exhaled through his nose, a firm scowl on his face.

Finnick entered the kitchen, heading for the fridge. "That's funny. It _looks_ like we have lemons. But I don't see any. Peet, did you eat the last one?"

_Fuck you, Odair._

Katniss stifled a laugh, a quiet snort escaping instead. "Mellark's got his panties in a knot because I'm going on a date."

"No. It's because you're going on a date _tonight_. It's band night!"

"When was the last time you saw me pick up an instrument?"

"You use that middle finger pretty well."

"Wanna see it again?"

Peeta rolled his eyes, huffing.

"It's not a big deal."

"She's right." Finnick agreed, his head now in the pantry, "It's not as though you haven't missed out on many a band occasion for your version of a date."

_Seriously, Odair. One more time._

"What do you even know about this guy? Do you even know his name?"

"Did you even know theirs?"

Peeta opened his mouth, ready to rip into his so-called bandmate.

"His name is Haymitch Abernathy. He works with Gale." Katniss interrupted.

_Fucking Gale! Now he's cockblock adjacent?_

"Sounds like a lameass."

"Really?" she laughed, patting him on the shoulder, "It's one night. You'll be fine. Now if you don't mind, I have a date to get ready for."

Katniss headed into her room, shutting the door firmly behind her.

"Seriously, dude. Jealous wanker doesn't do you any favours."

"Fuck you, Finn. I'm not jealous. I just don't understand why I get shit all over when I miss band night, and she gets let of the hook."

Finnick laughed quietly, shaking his head. "Sure. _That's_ it." He made his way towards the door, "We're leaving at 7."

* * *

So. Katniss was on a date. With some random guy Peeta had never even heard of until this morning. And no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, he was angry. He was angry at Finnick for always interrupting. He was angry at Gale for introducing her to him. He was angry at Katniss for going on the stupid date. He was angry at Haymitch for asking her.

Things were going perfectly. After that awkward moment in the kitchen, Peeta and Katniss had gone back to normal. They would joke, and laugh, and get along great. Then he could sneak out and have his fun, and no one would be the wiser. Nothing needed to change. But then Gale had to go and fuck it all up.

_No wonder he's so far into the friend-zone. _

He paced in front of the hotel, so involved in his own thoughts that he didn't see her get out of the cab.

"Peeta?"

"Fuck!"

"What are you doing out here? It's late!"

"I know. 11:55pm, last time I checked."

She folded her arms, a frown setting in.

"How was your date with _Haymitch_?"

"It was fine."

Peeta snorted. "Fine? Shit. Even I know that's code for craptastic. What'd he do wrong?"

Katniss' frown deepened, "That's well and truly in the category of none of your fucking business, Mellark."

"You're seriously not going to tell me? Why not?"

"Why do you want to know so badly?"

"Because."

"Because?!"

"I care."

A hollow laugh escaped her lips. "Ha! Ladies and Gentlemen, the joke of the year: Peeta Mellark gives a shit!"

"Fuck you."

"Fuck me? Oh no. No, no, no. You don't want to fuck me. You've made that abundantly clear, Peeta." She leant in, and he could smell the alcohol on her breath, "What you want to do is string me along, keeping me entertained with all these little games, but never letting me close enough to _really_ make a difference."

"That's not true."

"Oh but it IS! It's nothing BUT truth! Why else would you be so angry right now?"

_Because you're being a fucking bitch?_

"Newsflash, Mellark: You could've had me! All you had to do was fucking ask! But you were too chicken shit. And you know what? That was fine! You and I – we could've moved past that! But you just wanted to have your god damn cake and eat it too."

_That's not fair._

"You hate anyone and everyone who reminds you about why you fucking suck. Right now, you hate Haymitch because he did what you couldn't. And you hate me, because I'm forcing you to listen; because I tried my fucking hardest to give a shit about you and you wouldn't let me. Have you ever considered that it's your fault? That maybe you should hate yourself for a while and see what happens?"

He watched her go silent, her breathing heavy. The dark red dress she'd picked clung to her body, a light breeze weaving through her hair.

_She does angry so beautifully._

The silence extended for a beat longer before Peeta did the only thing he could think of: closing the space between them, he pushed his mouth onto hers, kissing her roughly. His hands knotted themselves in her hair as he pulled her closer, trying to express what words couldn't.

_You're right. I'm sorry. Forgive me. Help me._

Without warning, Katniss pushed him away. He felt a sharp sting as her hand connected with his cheek.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Spinning on her heel, Katniss marched into the hotel. The heavy wooden doors slid shut behind her, cementing whatever severance had just occurred. Peeta let his body slump to the ground, his head in his hands.

_What am I doing? I'm trying._


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Sorry for the delay - my family seem to think a location with zero internet access evokes the spirit of Christmas. :-/ I also wanted to let you all know that we're officially at the half-way mark! Yay! **

**Belated Merry Christmas, and a current Happy New Year! Thanks again for reading and reviewing. :)**

**-Sam**

* * *

_So. That happened._

Katniss pulled the covers over her head, the sunlight streaming through her window making the events of the previous night a little too crystal clear.

She had yelled at Peeta.

And he had kissed her.

She told him he was an asshole who failed at life.

And he kissed her.

She told him he should hate himself.

And he kissed her.

_And then I slapped him._

She groaned internally, delving deeper into her sheets. How could things have gone so wrong, so quickly? What she had said, she meant. But did that mean she should have said it?

_…Yes._

Peeta had been out of line. Who told him he was allowed to get angry with her for going on a date? She didn't see him asking her permission every time he snuck out to visit what's-her-name-this-time. Sure, her choice of words may have been a bit harsh – but maybe tough love was what he needed.

_Tough indifference, more like._

The residual embarrassment faded as her confidence rose. Pushing her blanket down, she sat up against the headboard. She was completely right in saying what she had. He deserved to hear the truth, and maybe having it screamed at him in the middle of the night by a drunken…friend…was the only way he'd listen.

_But that kiss…_

Katniss raised her hand, her fingers tracing the spot where his lips had crashed into hers. It was passionate, she couldn't deny that. But was it honest? Was it genuine? It felt desperate, and his timing was off…but was his intent?

_…Not that I care._

Making her way over to her suitcase, she pulled on a t-shirt and jeans. Why should she be the one hiding in her room forever? He was the one that had fucked up. Not her.

Finnick and Annie were already sitting in front of their breakfast when she walked in.

"Katniss!" Annie squealed, motioning towards the seat opposite her, "Sit down!"

She managed a blasé wave in their direction before pulling out a chair, "Morning."

"Jesus Everdeen! What happened? You look…"

"Like ass?"

Finnick grinned, "I was going to say tired. But yours is probably more accurate."

"Finny!" Annie narrowed her eyes at her boyfriend, "You look fine, Kat."

"Cheers."

"So…" Annie set down her knife and fork, her focus entirely on Katniss. "What happened last night?"

_Fuck. They know._

"Uhh…well…"

"Where did he take you? What did you end up doing?"

"Oh! …The date…with Haymitch." Katniss relaxed into her chair, exhaling heavily.

_Thank god._

"Obviously!" Annie giggled.

"So, Kitty-Kat…did he wine and dine you?" Finnick winked deliberately, a cheesy smile plastered across his face.

"Ha. Emphasis on the wine."

"You were nervous?" Annie placed a sympathetic hand on Katniss'.

"He was already drunk when the car arrived. I figured I needed to down a few to reach his level. …When in Panem!"

Finnick laughed, "You're first date in months…possibly years, if my instincts are correct…and you pick a functioning alcoholic."

Katniss rolled her eyes, "It was an experience!"

"Not to be repeated, by the sounds of it!"

A creak on the stairs caught Katniss' attention. Peeta made his way into the kitchen, his eyes immediately locking onto hers. It was obvious he hadn't slept since their conversation. Those eyes she couldn't seem to look away from were red, with dark circles underneath. The same black tee from the night before still clung to his body, only more crumpled. His hair was messy and standing upright. His whole appearance was a dishevelled mess.

_ Good._

He looked down, and Katniss shifted her gaze to their friend. "Actually, Finn – I think I might be seeing Haymitch again."

"...Is that so?" Finnick raised one eyebrow.

"Yep! He was just nervous last night…it was cute, actually." She let out a short giggle, grinning broadly.

Finnick frowned, his eyes trained on her. Katniss knew she was laying it on thick; that he could see straight through her – but Finnick wasn't the one she was aiming for. Peeta shifted uncomfortably, but didn't make any attempt to leave. Instead, he took a deliberate step towards Katniss, his eyes pleading.

"Anyway!" She pushed her chair back, "Long night, not such a long sleep…so…" She moved towards the doorway, offering another feeble wave. "I'll see you guys later!"

She made her way to the stairs, refusing to acknowledge Peeta.

* * *

Peeta slumped down into the newly vacant chair, his head resting in his hand.

"Uh…Mellark? …What the fuck was that?"

Peeta shrugged.

"So you come down looking like you've been pulled through a bush backwards, Katniss is ignoring you, and you have no idea why?"

Peeta sighed. If he was honest, he wanted to tell someone. And Finnick and Annie were as good as anyone – probably even better.

"Katniss is pissed at me."

"Yeah, I got that part. What did you do this time?"

"I waited up for her last night."

"…And?"

"And we fought."

"About what?"

_About how fucked up I am._

"I don't know."

Finnick rolled his eyes. "So. You fought. Wouldn't be the first time."

"I don't usually try to kiss her at the end, though."

Finnick's eyes grew wide, "You what?!"

"I kissed her. She didn't like that."

"Do they ever?"

"Finnick!" Annie hit him in the chest, a stern look on her face. "Peeta…why did you kiss Katniss?"

"Because I wanted to."

"…But what did it mean?"

He paused, thinking about Annie's question. He could be honest; could put it all out on the table and hope that maybe she'd be able to help. Or, he could keep some things to himself and play it safe.

He smirked. "It means I was drunk."

_Can't be too careful._

Annie rolled her eyes, scowling. "You're a real idiot, Peeta Mellark. I was just trying to help." She stormed out of the room, the muted sound of a door being slammed echoing down the hall.

"Aren't you going to check on your girlfriend?"

Finnick shook his head. "She'll be fine."

They sat in silence for a moment.

"I know you were sober."

"Alert the media." Peeta rolled his eyes, his tone sarcastic.

"Peet. You like her. That's not nothing."

_It may as well be._

"Even IF you're right, it doesn't matter. She doesn't feel the same."

"Why do you think that?"

_Because she slapped me._

Peeta shrugged.

"Exactly. So. I'll bring her in here, and I'll force her to stay. I don't know how – maybe I'll lock the door or something. We'll get back to that part. But then you two will _have_ to talk it out, and-"

"Finn! Don't bother." Peeta's tone was weary, "It's for the best, anyway."

"…Huh?"

"What if she kissed me back? What then? We become a couple?" He threw his hands in the air, exasperated, "How would that be a good thing? I suck at relationships."

"Fucking bullshit, Mellark."

"It's true."

"How the hell would you even know?" Finnick stood up, anger creeping into his voice, "You've only ever been in one, and she sucked at it."

"…What if it _was_ me? Huh? What the fuck then? What if I fuck it up? What if I hurt her? What if the friendship we have…had… - what if that gets so royally fucked up that Katniss never wants to speak to me again? I'm not Sir Care-A-Lot, Finn. I don't know how to be that nice guy she deserves."

Finnick sighed heavily as he leant against the countertop. "How long have I known you? 12…13 years?"

Peeta nodded.

"And this – right now – is the first time I've ever heard you bother to ask those questions about a girl. …That's got to count for something. So just do me a favour and give it some thought?" He straightened up, taking a few steps towards the door. "And Peet?"

Peeta looked up.

"Katniss isn't Madge."

* * *

All things considered, Katniss' day hadn't been that bad. She had taken herself to the cinema, had gone on a tour of District 5, and had eaten so much that she'd secretly tried to pop the top button of her jeans. Now, however, as the sun was beginning to set, a pang of dread seeped in. Before her successful escape, Katniss had made the mistake of promising Annie she'd be back for dinner. At the time, it had seemed like a fair deal. Now, though, as she was making her way back to the hotel, she wasn't so sure.

_Maybe I could bail. Annie would understand…I think…_

She rounded the last corner, her head down.

_Or maybe I could fake sick and just beeline for my room. Or-_

"Katniss!"

She looked up, startled. Peeta was standing on the front steps. His clothes seemed cleaner, and his hair wasn't as wild, but his eyes still had the same pleading look.

_Fuck. Groundhog day, much?!_

She kept her head down and folded her arms, determined to ignore his presence.

"Katniss – please. I just want to talk."

She pushed past him and entered the lobby.

"Can't you stop for two seconds?"

He was following her now, intent on getting her attention. Katniss quickened her pace, making it into an elevator. She scoffed with disgust as Peeta managed to squeeze in before the doors shut. They rode in silence for a few seconds, Katniss still refusing to acknowledge him. They'd almost made it to their floor when the elevator lurched, the sudden stop making her lose her balance.

Peeta was standing beside the panel, his fist still resting on the Emergency Stop button.

"Jesus, Mellark! You're really trying to own this melodramatic cliché thing."

"Just hear me out."

"Do I have a god damn choice?"

He fidgeted with his pocket for a moment, apparently searching for the right words.

_Or any words._

His mouth opened and closed again as he struggled.

"Peeta…" Katniss started, frustration creeping into her voice, "Just hit the bloody reset button and-"

"I'm glad you slapped me."

She paused, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

_Proceed._

"You were right. I was being a fucking jackass. I was rude and disrespectful. And…I'm sorry." He paused, taking another step towards the bed. "I'm sorry, Katniss. I'm sorry I was such a wanker-"

"Why is that?" she interrupted, "…Why is it that you're default setting is Class A Dickhole?"

Peeta shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his face almost pained. "I don't know…"

"Bullshit."

"It's just easier."

"To be a jerk?"

"That part isn't intentional. I just…it's more…" he paused. "It's simpler."

"Than what?" she pressed.

"Than feeling!" Peeta's hands flew into the air, his tone exasperated. "Being angry is better than being sad."

"Says who?"

"Says me! Okay? Says me. After…everything…I decided I was done getting hurt."

He fell silent.

"…Everything?"

He stayed silent, his eyes now downcast.

"C'mon, Mellark. You want to hash this shit out, so let's go. Spill. What the fuck was so bad that you had to turn into the evil twin version of yourself?" Katniss folded her arms again, her eyes cold.

She heard him exhale heavily. "Her name was Madge."

"And this 'Madge' was a bit shit?"

"If you call taking my virginity to win a bet with my brother, then yeah – she was shit-tacular."

Katniss paused. "She what?"

"Here I was, thinking I'd found the best girl the District had to offer. She spent months pretending to be this sweet, kind person; pretending she loved me. And I loved her – I did. So we…ya know…and the next morning, Rye told me everything. I tried to talk to her, but she may as well have disappeared." He shrugged, his face impassive.

"No offence, Mellark. But you have a douche for a brother."

He let out an empty laugh. "He takes after my mother."

"…So you're a wanker because you got fucked over."

Peeta nodded. "I guess."

"Well thanks for the update. Next time you decide to be a jerk-off I'll remember this moment and be sure to think 'well, it's all okay because Peeta got hurt one time.'" Katniss rolled her eyes, "Now can you please press that fucking Reset button so-"

"Look, Katniss – I'm not standing here saying what I do is right." Peeta's tone was rigid, "You made it perfectly clear that I have a fuckload I could improve on. All I'm saying is that closing myself off has stopped me from getting hurt."

She shifted her weight, trying to stay nonchalant.

"And it was fine. It was all fine." His eyes locked onto hers, his determination clear. "But then you had to go and push your way in."

"And you went and pushed me back out."

He nodded. "…I fucked up." He stepped towards her, "Last night…did you mean what you said?"

"About you being a jackass? Absolutely."

_Where is he going with this?_

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, "I meant the other part…about…you and me? About me only having to ask?"

Katniss swallowed, her bravado gone.

_Yes._

"Look…Katniss…the bottom line is that I don't know what I'm doing. Ever. I'm completely and utterly clueless."

_Clearly._

"But I want to change. Really. Starting now. I want to try this. Properly. …With you."

Katniss felt her jaw go slack. Peeta Mellark was putting himself out there. He had issues; one's she knew about and ones, she felt, he was still hiding. And yet here he was, standing in a frozen elevator, pouring his heart out; asking her to give him a chance to prove himself. There were a million and one things that could go wrong. but despite every single one, Katniss knew there really was only one possible answer.

"…Okay."

Relief flooded Peeta's face, giving way to a broad smile. "Thank fuck." He leant in until their faces were only inches apart. "This time, please don't slap me."

Their lips met: gentler than last time, but with no less urgency. Peeta's arms wound around her waist, and she reached up to run a hand through his messy blonde hair, and couldn't help but notice how easily they seemed to fit together.

_So this is how it was supposed to go._

She felt him smile into her lips before he pulled away. "I think I'm going to like this."


	9. Chapter 9

_Just call me Casanova._

Peeta leant back in the pool chair, a smug smile appearing. If the last 48 hours were any indication, then his second-longest relationship was going well. He suspected she was waiting for him to change his mind and back out. But that was never his intention. So when she took his hand and marched him into the kitchen, insisting they tell the group straight away, he let her. And when everyone turned to stare at them, he even opened with "We have something to tell you."

Annie had spotted their interlocked fingers first. Her squeal made that clear. Katniss had smiled broadly, and moved away from him to hug her. Peeta moved towards the boys, shrugging.

"Took your time, Mellark." Finnick had slapped him on the back jovially. "Welcome to the Ball and Chain Club. We're getting handcuffs."

After that, it was all a bit of a non-event, really. Nothing much changed. He still did whatever he wanted to.

_'Other girls' just aren't on that to-do list._

There was still a part of him that knew it could completely backfire. His ability to turn anything he touched to shit was renowned, after all. But he could finally admit that Katniss made him happy, and he decided that that made the risk worth it.

_Plus she'd call me on my bullshit in a heartbeat._

The sliding door behind him creaked as it opened, light footsteps making their way toward him.

"Don't you have work to do, Everdeen?"

She leant over his chair, kissing him lightly on the forehead. "No, don't think so."

"Oh really? Because I seem to recall that the biggest night of our career thus far happens to be tonight. Which would indicate to me that you should be up to your ears in logistical shit."

"Fuck off." She slapped him playfully before lowering herself into an adjacent chair. "You're the one being interviewed."

"Exactly. Which makes you the hired help."

"Want me to throw you a shovel for that hole you're digging?"

"No, actually. I'm going to stand by it."

"I should've known this is what dating a diva would be like." She laughed and leant back, enjoying the sun on her face. "You know, tonight is going to be amazing for you guys."

_I would've gone with fucking terrifying._

"Shit. Caesar fucking Flickerman! And HE called US, so you know he's keen." She rolled onto her side, smiling at him. "I wonder what I should wear…"

"Does it matter? Just choose something comfy."

"Of course it matters! Why wouldn't it?"

Peeta shrugged. "It's not like they'll know who you are. No one will even notice you."

* * *

_Deep breath, Katniss. Let him explain._

Katniss folded her arms, her eyes narrowed. The bewildered look on Peeta's face made it clear he was as surprised by the turn of events as she was.

_He probably didn't mean it the way it sounded. Let him try again._

"Elaborate."

"I…I just meant that it's not that much of a drama…" he rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "I mean – they won't even know I have a girlfriend – let alone that it's _you_."

"You're acting like it's top secret."

"It kind of is."

_You're joking._

"But it's sort of more exciting that way, don't you think?"

"Let me get this straight:…you want me to be your _secret_ girlfriend?"

Peeta sat up in his chair, but didn't say anything.

_Yeah…no._

Standing, Katniss turned on her heel and marched inside. She could hear Peeta's hurried footsteps behind her as she charged up the stairs.

"I don't want to hear it, Mellark!"

"What I'm trying to say – it's not coming out right!"

"Doubtful – very doubtful."

She turned at the top of the stairs, her body crashing into something solid.

"Jeez, Everdeen." Cato grinned down at her lopsidedly.

"Sorry. Didn't see you."

_You should wear a bell._

"Cato!" Peeta stopped beside them, his tone relieved, "Help a brother out here, will you?"

Cato looked between them, taking in Katniss' sullen glare and Peeta's pleading eyes. "Seriously? Already?"

_Fuck. Tell me about it._

"I tried to explain to Katniss about keeping the relationship secret…"

"I'm not asking for a fucking coming out party, Mellark. But I'm not interested in public denials either."

"It's not _me_, Kat. It's the _image_."

Katniss looked at him, incredulous. "Your image?! _That's _what you're worried about?"

"Katniss. …He has a point."

Her glare moved the Cato, and he shifted awkwardly under its intensity.

"You said it yourself weeks ago: Peeta's the front-man. His image is integral to the success of Mockingjay."

"I said that because he was being a complete man-whore." She folded her arms, stubborn.

"At least then every girl in Panem thought she had a chance with him. Though why they'd want one is still beyond me." Cato smiled slightly, nudging her. "If they knew he had a girlfriend, they might lose interest in him…and in Mockingjay."

Katniss didn't say anything.

"I'd never _lie_ about you, Everdeen. I just don't think we should announce it."

She lifted her gaze, sizing up her new boyfriend. As much as she hated to admit it, she knew Cato was right. Peeta being publicly available was good for the band.

_I just don't know if it's good for me._

"…So if an interviewer asks you if you have a girlfriend, what are you planning on saying?"

"I'd laugh it off and avoid giving a direct answer."

"You wouldn't lie and say 'no'?"

Peeta stepped toward her, a bemused smile on his face. "I may be new to this whole relationship thing, but I'm not a complete fucking idiot."

_You sure about that?_

Katniss remained silent, shifting from one foot to the other uncomfortably. Finally, she let out a sigh. "It's what's best for Mockingjay. So…okay. No outright denials, no announcements."

Peeta grinned broadly, hugging her. "Deal."

Katniss returned the hug, forcing a small smile.

_Two days in and I'm already compromising._

* * *

Peeta tugged on his shirt nervously. Twenty feet to his left, Caesar Flickerman was sitting in his armchair, his makeup team fussing over him.

_Every bright blue strand counts, apparently._

"You ready?"

Finnick stood beside him, his guitar slung over his shoulder. Peeta couldn't help but wonder if his face mirrored the sheer terror he was looking at. Up until now, the increasing success of Mockingjay had gone more or less unnoticed by Peeta. Sure, they played more gigs, and more people were showing up…but nothing had changed too drastically. Now, standing to the side of the stage, staring at never-changing face of Caesar Flickerman, it hit him: this was it.

"I guess. I mean, it's now or never – right?"

"I just hope I don't make an ass of myself."

"Best not to open your mouth, then." Katniss stopped beside them, her face buried in a bright blue binder.

_Ha! Girlfriend: 1 Band mate: 0._

"I wish I had your way with words, Everdeen." Finnick rolled his eyes, "Aren't you supposed to be helping us make this work?"

"I consider myself more in the business of keeping it real."

Peeta felt her brush the back of his hand, her fingers searching for his. Suddenly, Caesar Flickerman looked up in their direction. Peeta raised his hand – the one Katniss had been trying to hold – and waved. Smiling broadly, the TV host waved back before beckoning the boys over.

"I guess it's almost time?" Finnick exhaled heavily.

"I'll go and get Cato, then." Katniss turned to leave.

"Wait-" Peeta called after her.

She turned, smiling.

"Fist-bump for good luck?" Peeta extended his arm, his fingers closed tightly.

Katniss' smile became visibly tight as she met his fist with her own. "You'll do great."

The boys turned and started towards the stage. "…You just fist-bumped your girlfriend."

"For good luck."

"Out of all the physical interactions Katniss would've allowed in that moment, you chose a fist-bump."

"What are you getting at, Odair?"

"I just wanted to make sure you knew."

As they reached the side of the stage, a swarm of people surrounded them. One particularly aggressive woman pounced on Peeta, her hands pulling at his hair.

_So two hours in hair and makeup were for what? Shits and giggles?_

"C'mon guys – surely they've endured enough torture by now?"

Caesar Flickerman's voice was loud, with a distinct sing-song tone. As the Torture Team began to disperse, he beckoned once more for Peeta and Finnick to join him.

"Weren't there three of you at one stage?"

"Yeah – Cato. He's coming."

Caesar Flickerman nodded. "So. How are you?"

"In the midst of a nervous breakdown." Finnick stammered. The sentence had barely left his mouth before his cheeks flushed a bright shade of crimson.

_Should've listened to Katniss, Odair._

A loud bellowing laugh echoed around the stage as Caesar Flickerman sat down in his signature armchair; its royal blue velvet designed to match his hair. "Finnick, isn't it?"

Finnick nodded.

"Finnick you have nothing to worry about. I invited you boys here today because I think what you're doing with Mockingjay is just spectacular. And I want all of Panem to hear about it." He patted the black leather lounge beside him, "So just promise me you'll be yourself and we'll have a great time."

Cato jogged over to the stage, three buttons on his lavender shirt still undone. "I believe he's been advised against that."

Caesar Flickerman laughed again. A burly man with an earpiece approached the stage. He listened intently to whomever was on the other end, before signalling to the host.

"One minute!"

_Fuck._

"Here we go, boys!"

Finnick wiped the palms of his hands on his jeans, his face drained of colour. Cato busied himself with his remaining buttons, before turning his attention to his hair. Peeta forced himself to sit back on the lounge.

_Look casual. But not too casual. Too casual looks bored._

He glanced across the room and saw Katniss standing between two security guards. Her hands were clasped together tightly and even though she was looking at the ground, Peeta could tell her brow was furrowed.

_She must be nervous too…_

"Okay everyone – clear the set!" The burly man jogged past them again, herding the remaining crew members to the side.

Caesar Flickerman sat up straight, his regal pose matching his throne. He glanced toward Katniss once more, willing her to look up. She didn't.

_No denials. No announcements._

A thin woman moved behind a camera, its red light blinking menacingly. She gave the thumbs up to Caesar Flickerman, before using her fingers to countdown from 5.

_Here we go…_

* * *

_Here we go…_

Katniss folded and unfolded her arms, the additional limbs suddenly seeming like awkward, unnecessary additions. She thought back to Gale's birthday, when they sat with Prim in front of her mother's small TV. He had been kind, then. She only hoped he would be again.

_At least that dick Claudius Templesmith isn't here._

"Good Evening Panem! Welcome to Capitol Corner! I'm your host, Caesar Flickerman." He turned his head to face another camera before continuing. "Tonight: Marvel caught in the act – again! When will he learn? We go behind the scenes of Clove's newest movie. And is Seneca Crane single and ready to mingle? But first! Mockingjay are LIVE in the studio for their first TV interview!"

The camerawoman pulled back, and Katniss could see on her screen that the boys were officially on camera.

"Boys!" Caesar Flickerman opened his arms wide, his signature toothy smile in place. "Thanks for being here."

Cato was the first to respond. "Thanks for having us!"

"Now, I've been raving about you and your music for what feels like forever, but for those playing at home who aren't as familiar – why don't you tell us a bit about yourselves? How did Mockingjay get started?"

It was Peeta who responded this time. "Well, Finnick, Cato and I have all known each other since high school. Cato and I were in the same grade, and we tried to start a band when we were about 14. But it wasn't until we met Finn, who was a couple of grades below us that it really clicked."

Caesar nodded enthusiastically. "And your music – Finnick, can you tell us a bit about that?"

Finnick jumped slightly at the sound of his name. "Well, we write all of our own songs, and play our own instruments…I think having such an organic process really makes our music more personal."

"That's quite rare in this day and age, too. And! What a lovely segue you've just presented me with!" A candid photo of Annie and Finnick appeared on the screen behind them. "Who is this lovely young woman?"

Finnick smiled bashfully, but didn't say anything.

"I believe that would be Annie, Caesar." Peeta grinned, nudging his band mate.

"Annie! What a lovely name! I'm assuming she's rather special?"

Finnick looked at his shoes. "She's pretty wonderful."

Caesar nodded knowingly. "And what about you two? Any special ladies?"

Katniss inhaled sharply, her eyes trained on Peeta.

_No denials. No announcements._

They both laughed jovially before Cato spoke. "Not at the moment, no."

"Peeta? What about you? Surely being the front man of a band like Mockingjay has its perks!"

"There are many, _many_ perks Caesar." He winked cheekily at the host.

Katniss remained still, her body refusing to expel any air. She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, but ignored it.

_No denials. No announcements._

"And is a girlfriend one of them?"

Katniss' phone vibrated again. She dug it out and stared at the screen, annoyed.

_Prim._

"This had better be important."

"Katniss! Are you watching the show?"

Katniss sighed, frustrated. "Prim, I'm at the show!"

There was a slight pause. "Oh. How exciting! Peeta is going to talk about you!"

Another sigh. "No, he's not. We agreed to keep it private."

"Really? Then why is your picture on this screen?"

Katniss looked up. Sure enough, the screen that just moments ago showed Annie and Finnick holding hands outside of an ice cream parlour now showed her and Peeta laying beside a pool, smiling gleefully at each other.

_FUCK._

"Prim I gotta go."

She hung up the phone and inched towards the stage, straining to catch every word.

Peeta forced a short laugh, waving a hand towards the photo dismissively. "Caesar! I didn't realise you were so resourceful!"

The host smiled, though it no longer seemed as genuine. "You look rather comfortable there, with this mystery woman!"

"Her name is Katniss. She works with us."

_No denials. No announcements._

"And you two are close?"

"We're all close with her." Finnick interrupted, "She's awesome."

Caesar remained undeterred. "Awesome enough for _the_ Peeta Mellark to make things official? Is this woman – Katniss – your girlfriend?"

* * *

Peeta's smiled stayed frozen on his face.

_You fucking prick of a TV host!_

Milliseconds felt like hours as he weighed up his options. No denials, no announcements. That was the deal. But now he had no choice. He had to pick one or the other. He looked behind Caesar, and his eyes locked onto Katniss'. Her face was blank; her expression unreadable. Less than 72 hours, and already they were here.

After what felt like an eternity, Peeta turned back to face Caesar Flickerman. "Sorry to disappoint, Caesar – but Katniss is not my girlfriend."

Cato and Finnick froze beside him.

"Really and truly? Peeta Mellark is completely single?"

_Can't back out now._

"Would I lie to you?"

"Well! I know a lot of ladies will be very relieved to hear that!"

Peeta forced a smile, his gaze once again shifting to where Katniss stood. He was only half surprised to see the spot empty.

_I'm so fucked._

"Now, moving on to this upcoming tour!"

The interview with Caesar Flickerman continued for a few more minutes, with Cato and Finnick fielding the remaining questions.

Finally, Caesar Flickerman threw to a commercial, signalling the end of his obligatory stay on the lounge. Standing, he nodded curtly towards the host, before barrelling down the stage and towards their makeshift dressing room.

_Fuck. Please be in here._

He took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Katniss was sitting in an old armchair, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Upon hearing Peeta enter, she looked up. Her expression was still blank, making it impossible for him to decipher her mood.

"You're still here."

"I'm still on the clock." She smiled tightly.

"Look. Kat. What happened out there-"

"Was completely unavoidable."

He cocked his head to the side, confused. "I was going to say completely sucked."

Katniss stood up and moved towards him. She still smelled like fruit.

"We were stupid to think our agreement would've worked."

"We were?"

She nodded. "It's just more proof."

Peeta's brow furrowed. "Of what?"

"Peeta…" she placed a hand on his arm.

_Don't say it._

"This whole thing…"

_Don't say it._

"I just…I just don't think…"

_Don't fucking say it._

"It's not going to work."

Peeta pulled his arm away, his expression pained. "What the fuck?"

"We can't both get what we want by being together." Her tone was resigned.

"Katniss. I fucked up out there. I get that. I had to choose. And I didn't think. But I-"

"Mockingjay comes first. I get that." She reached for his arm again, "And I'm not mad. I promise."

"…Then what the fuck, Kat?!" Peeta's eyes were pleading.

"They took that photo this morning. When we thought we were alone. It's one thing to pretend in public, but behind the scenes, too? I won't do that. But…you will. You'd want to. For Mockingjay; for you…" she trailed off. "Maybe in another time and place, this will work. I hope so, at least. But not here, and not now. You're not ready."

"You're wrong."

"I'm sorry." She turned around and picked up her bag.

"…So that's it. I put my everything into this, and all I get is a lousy 48 hours?!"

"I'm going to go home for a few days. I'll be back before the tour kicks off."

Peeta turned to watch as she walked out of the room, the door clicking shut behind her. And then he was alone. Again.

_Well…that's that, then._


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Far out, I owe everyone a HUGE apology. 2013 thus far has been an abomination. Without boring you with too many details, it started with getting the chicken pox for the first time at 22, and ended with National Youth Week (a huge pain in the ass for those of us who are Youth Workers) - with a huge dose of moving house and arguing with your internet provider for a month. I am SO sorry it's taken this long. And for those of you who haven't forgotten me and who are still reading - THANK YOU.**

* * *

Katniss rested her head on the window, her reflection blurring with the passing greenery. The hum of the car engine was louder now – so much so that it almost drowned out Gale's voice. Almost.

"He's an absolute pig, Catnip. Seriously. I know I said it before, but even having the agreement in the first place was a mistake. He should be _proud_ of you! Instead he's made you feel like crap on crap." He paused, his nostrils flaring, "I couldn't believe it when I saw that smug bastard Flickerman pointing at your photo. And Mellark! That lying sack of shit! And then I got your phone call…I tell you what, if I had been there I would've-"

She looked down, her phone vibrating loudly.

_Silent mode my ass._

"Is that him again? What's that – phone call number 294? Don't let him get to you. He just wants to have his Catnip and eat it too." He stopped. "…I didn't mean it like that."

It vibrated again, Peeta's name flashing on the screen.

_Ignore. Ignore. IGNORE._

"Anyway! My point is-" Gale continued "-he's just trying to get you back to prove that he can. He'll keep calling and he'll be all _Katniss I'm sorry. I had no choice. You mean the world to me. Please come back so I can publicly deny my feelings for you again and again and again._"

_That's not how he sounds._

Katniss stared at the screen as it started to ring yet again.

"You need to be strong! Keep telling him to fuck off! Show him he's an asshat!"

Her thumb hovered over the 'reject' button. She could see Gale watching her, his attention only half on the road in front of him. Finally the vibrating stopped, her voicemail stealing the chance away.

"He's not worth it, Catnip. Not even the tiniest bit. And the fact that a dickhead like him has hurt you fucking kills me. But you just have to forget about him, and move the fuck on to better things, ya know? Keep busy with shit that isn't Mellark-related and—"

"Gale, I'm fine." Katniss turned in her seat to face him, "It was two days that, in the grand scheme of things, didn't mean jack shit. It's nothing. I'm okay."

The statement hung in the air, neither of them able to gauge how honest she was being. Nevertheless, the car remained silent for the remainder of their journey. The phone, too, remained idle.

Eventually, Gale's truck rolled to a stop and he killed the engine. The sudden silence felt almost eerie. Katniss quickly got out, grabbing the still-silent phone. There was no movement from inside the house as she trudged up the front path.

_No Prim?_

She stepped through the entrance, Gale close behind her. There was a hushed whisper coming from the kitchen.

"Prim?"

The whispering stopped suddenly, and Katniss heard a distinct click. Seconds later, Prim appeared in the hall, a tentative smile on her face.

"Katniss! You're home sooner than I thought."

"There wasn't much traffic." Gale shrugged.

"Who were you talking to?"

"What? I wasn't talking to anyone." Prim tugged at her dress, her gaze down.

"Just then – I heard whispering when I came in."

"Oh…that…" Prim forced a laugh, "That was Rory – he just wanted to see if I wanted to meet him at The Square – that's all."

Gale's looked at Prim, his brow furrowed. She shot him a pointed look before turning back to her sister.

"…How are you, though?"

Katniss shrugged. Despite the string of expletives Gale had attached to Peeta, Katniss wasn't mad at him – not really. He had tried; he'd put himself out there for her, and that wasn't something she had taken lightly. If she was honest, it wasn't even the broken promise that had been the last straw. The fact that there had needed to be such an arrangement in place – that had been the real problem for Katniss. She needed to be a priority – not a compromise.

_Maybe. One day._

"I'm fine, Prim. Really."

"What he did was super dodgy."

Katniss nodded slightly. "Maybe. It's all about timing, I guess."

She yawned, the previous night and the long drive back home finally hitting her. "I reckon I could do with a bit of a lay down, though."

Prim nodded, "I just got Clove's new movie – the ninja one. We can watch it in my room."

Gale watched them walk down the hall. "So I'll just hang out by myself, then. No dramas. It's not like I just drove for hours or anything!"

* * *

It had been an experience for Peeta, travelling on the train all the way to District 12. He'd hoped he would be on the same carriage as Katniss, and they'd be able to sort things out en route. Instead, he'd spent the journey hiding in a dark corner-seat that smelt of damp cloth, trying to avoid anyone who might recognise him.

And now, he was here. Standing outside of the wooden house; _her_ house. It was a small building – the peeling off-white paint and the rusted gutters suggesting a place long left to fend for itself. Usually it would be an unremarkable, inoffensive exterior; one he would pass without noticing. But now – today – he found it positively daunting.

He'd practised what he was going to say, of course: how he was going to tell her he'd made a mistake; that he'd been put on the spot and hadn't thought properly. He was going to insist that they were better than two days and that they owed it to themselves to keep trying.

_And then, I'm going to kiss her. And she's going to love it._

He nodded to himself and, taking a deep breath, knocked on the door. A beat passed before it swung open, Gale's imposing figure blocking the doorway. Peeta watched as his initial look of shock turned to hatred.

_Might scrap the kissing portion, then._

"Mellark."

"Hawthorne."

Gale stepped onto the porch, the door clicking shut behind him. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I'm here to see Katniss."

"Ha. Like fuck you are."

"I don't blame you for being angry. I'm sure Katniss is, too."

Gale snorted.

"But I just want to explain to her what happened."

"That's not going to happen, Mellark. She asked me to get her away from you and your 'band' and that's exactly what I intend on doing."

Peeta sighed, exasperated. "I won't let her just run away."

"Yes. You will."

"You don't understand. Katniss—"

"—is fucking amazing. And you screwed it up. And you want to tell her how you're sorry, and you'll never do it again, and how you want another chance to prove you're 'worth it'." Gale took a step towards Peeta, his face stern, "The problem is, Mellark – you're only sorry because she didn't put up with it, you will do it again, and you're definitely not worth it."

Peeta squared his shoulders, "You don't know shit."

"If you could turn back time and do things differently – would you? Would you admit to Caesar Flickerman - to all of Panem - that you're dating Katniss Everdeen?"

Peeta faltered.

"Exactly." Gale turned and stepped back inside of the house. "Fuck off, Mellark. Let her be someone's number one."

The door swung shut, leaving Peeta once again staring at the peeling off-white paint. He blinked a few times, his mind processing what had just happened.

_Fucking Hawthorne._

* * *

Katniss leant against the tree trunk, the feeling in her right foot gone.

_Not feeling the whole 'like riding a bike' thing here._

It had been a long time since she'd gone into the woods. Once upon a time it had been a terrifying necessity – the dark, foreboding forest containing fear and food in equal parts. But Katniss had been determined. And with the help of her father's bow, she had been able to provide enough for her family so that they not only survived – they thrived.

For a while, Gale had been her hunting buddy. His specialties were snares – Katniss was always amazed at how his bulky, oversized hands suddenly became deft whenever a trap was involved. They'd made a good team – but ever since they'd turned 18 and gotten 'real' jobs, Gale didn't go into the woods much. "No point", he'd said.

Not needing to hunt anymore didn't make the woods pointless for Katniss. This was her sanctuary. Here, she could forget about her life; about her responsibilities, her troubles, her doubts…

_…About Peeta._

She pushed herself off of the branch, her feet landing silently on the forest floor. She sighed absentmindedly and pulled an arrow from her quiver. Loading the arrow and drawing back to bow in one swift move, she aimed at a solitary tree a few feet away. The arrow flew through the air, hitting its target. Moving over to retrieve her weapon, she couldn't help but wish everything in life was this easy.

She loaded her bow again and shifted her aim to a different tree, hitting it with ease. Deciding this was too simple, she looked further, aiming her arrow towards a thick round stump jutting out in the distance. The arrow connected with its target, and Katniss smiled to herself.

_Still got it. Come at me, targets._

The routine was comforting, but didn't require much concentration. And - to her annoyance - it wasn't long before a certain blonde musician popped into her mind.

_It's for the best. He cares, I care. But that's not enough. It was trial and error – emphasis on the error – but maybe later we can try again. When the timing is better. He's not ready to commit to anyone. And that's okay. At least I know that if he were, it would be me. And nobody really has to know. It's for the best._

The pep talk helped Katniss. What had happened didn't change things – not really. It had proven there was potential. Unfortunately, it also highlighted the problem: timing. Oddly, though, this was okay with Katniss. If the issue was time, then it meant it wasn't Peeta. Or her. She plucked her arrow from yet another tree, this time deciding that it was time to head home. And then, back to Mockingjay, so she could face everything head on.

_After all, you never know what life has in store…_

* * *

The door slammed behind Peeta, his feet dragging along the floor as he made his way through the hotel room.

Finnick met him in the doorframe, his smile hesitant. "You're back."

Peeta nodded. "When we're rich, remind me to donate substantially to Panem's Railways."

"Noted. …So – where is she? Getting stuff out of the car?"

Peeta shrugged. "She was there. And I knocked."

"And?" Cato pushed past Finnick.

"And Gale Hawthorne, Knight in Dirty Overalls, wouldn't let me in."

"Well, did you tell him to fuck off?"

"Yes."

_Turns out her watchdog isn't so great with commands._

"Cato, if you ever saw Gale – you'd understand Peeta's predicament."

"But…I don't understand." Cato threw his hands in the air. "I spoke to Prim on the phone and she said everything was a-go. How much more prepared can you get than conspiring with the little sister?"

Peeta shrugged. "It's alright. It just wasn't supposed to happen."

"You're giving up?"

"I wouldn't call it that."

"What would you call it, then?"

_Paying for my inevitable fuck-up._

He shrugged again.

"Well. She said she'd be back in time for the tour, right? That's three days. And I doubt Gale would follow her."

_Great. So I get a daily reminder of my fuckery._

Finnick and Cato exchanged glances, their expressions concerned. Suddenly, Finnick's eyes brightened.

"At least you have tonight to take your mind off things!"

Peeta looked up, only half interested.

"…The Miss Panem Pageant? That'll be fun."

Cato chimed in, relieved for the change in subject. "Oh – that's right! I forgot you were a judge!"

_Yay. Can't wait._

* * *

"…I was a bit surprised she won, if I'm honest. I really thought Satin Varquez had it in the bag."

Peeta remained silent, taking another swig from the bottle in his hand.

The older man continued: "I suppose she must have done something right to win the other three judges over. I guess you and I must have missed that part." He chuckled, taking a sip of his own drink. Peeta watched as something behind him caught the man's attention. "Anyway. I suppose I should head off. 'If you haven't got anything nice to say' and all that…good to meet you Mr Mellark."

Peeta dipped his head and raised his bottle slightly, bidding the man goodbye.

"Hm. Nothing nice to say? That's unfortunate." Johanna Mason moved past Peeta, brushing up against him.

"Does it matter? You won anyway." Peeta drained his bottle before placing it on the bar's countertop. "Congrats, by the way."

Johanna fingered the gold headpiece still mounted on her head. "I suppose. Still…" she winked, "I really did think I had you on-side."

"Who said you didn't?"

Johanna smirked. "So you did vote for me."

_Least I could do, what with you eye-fucking the shit out of me and all._

"You earned it." He motioned to the bartender.

She leant against the bar, her "Miss Panem" sash falling to one side. "So what's on Peeta Mellark's agenda after this who shebang?"

_Downing enough alcohol to forget said shebang._

"Not sure yet."

"Seriously? Peeta Mellark – frontman of Mockingjay – is without an after party? Where is that party boy I've heard so much about?"

The bartender placed a new bottle in front of him. "Fuck knows, I guess."

"I'm devastated."

"Is this where I should apologise or something?"

"No…" Johanna moved closer to Peeta, her cleavage pressed firmly against his chest, "But it could be where you make it up to me."

Peeta turned, his body now facing the crowd. "I'm sure you have lots of people to mingle with…wouldn't want to keep you."

Johanna remained undeterred. "They'll wait. I am Miss Panem after all." She stared at Peeta, waiting for a response. Several moments passed. "You know, for a womanising musician, you sure make this difficult."

Peeta turned to face her, one eyebrow arched. "Womanising?"

"Would you prefer something else? Philanderer? Lothario? Libertine, perhaps?"

_What ever happened to "flirt"?_

Peeta tried to rearrange his features, hoping to seem indifferent. It didn't work.

"Wow. Touched a nerve there, did I? Sorry – wasn't my intention. I'd just expected you to be…different."

_That's all I need – more fucking expectations._

"I suppose I can tick off "disappointing Miss Panem" from the to-do list."

"Well _someone_ has their boxers in a knot!"

A photographer approached them. "A shot of Miss Panem and one of the judges?"

Johanna threw an arm around Peeta's shoulders, a frozen smile appearing on both of their faces. The photographer's flash went off, and the man disappeared. Peeta took a deep swig from his bottle before glancing at his watch.

"Un-fucking-believable." Johanna folded her arms tightly, pushing her chest together.

_What now?!_

"In case its escaped your attention: I'm a fucking stunner. And you know that thing about how ugly people try harder? Total fucking myth." She leant forward, her hands moving to her hips. "I just won Miss Panem for fuck's sake! I deserve some fun!"

A bemused smile tugged at the edges of Peeta's mouth. "I have no doubt."

Johanna pressed her lips together, trying to hide the small smile that was appearing. She shoved him slightly. "I'm serious! And clearly you've got some sort of shit going on that warrants a night of fun."

_…I can see that logic._

"So tell me Peeta Mellark: why the fuck shouldn't we?"

Peeta paused, his mind sifting through the facts. 1: He'd screwed things up with Katniss. 2: He didn't deserve Katniss. 3: Katniss didn't want him anymore. 4: Johanna was hot. 5: Johanna had good logic. 6: He didn't want to be miserable anymore.

Peeta downed the last of his beer before slamming the bottle onto the counter. "I knew I'd voted right."


	11. Chapter 11

"Good morning sleepy head. Have a good sleep?"

Peeta blinked slowly, his lids heavy. Dragging his arms out from under the duvet, he used one as a prop to hold himself up. The sudden change in temperature told him he wasn't wearing a shirt. Johanna propped herself on the end of the bed, Peeta's red bathrobe hanging loose on her otherwise naked frame.

_So one night stands are allowed to raid closets now? _

"Uhh…hi." Peeta's voice was croaky. He cleared his throat and tried again. "What time is it?"

"It's a little after 9am. I kept the curtains closed for you – figured it's the least you deserved after all your effort last night." She winked.

"…Cheers." Peeta offered her a tight smile as he pushed himself out of bed. "So…this is a bit awkward and all…but I actually have somewhere I need to be…" he let his words trail off, hoping she'd catch his drift.

Johanna scowled.

"It was fun and all…really great, honest." He was in damage control now. "I just really do need to be somewhere…for work."

This brightened her mood. "Oh! With Mockingjay?"

Peeta nodded.

"That sounds fun! Can I come?"

Peeta shifted uncomfortably.

"Oh c'mon…we had so much fun last night – why not have fun this morning?"

_Because part of last night's fun was tied up in its impermanence. Obviously._

He shifted again, trying to come up with the right excuse. Unfortunately, Johanna took his silence as consent.

"Great – I'll just jump in the shower. …Want to join me?"

"Yeah…no thanks. I should head down and see what the boys are doing."

Throwing on the closest thing resembling a shirt, Peeta left Johanna and made his way towards the kitchen. The hallway's carpet was soft under his feet, making the cold kitchen tile seem suddenly clinical.

_All the better to interrogate me in._

Finnick and Cato were sitting at the island bench top, their frames hunched over bowels of cereal.

"Hey."

His band mates looked up. Cato smiled warmly. "Hey – Peeta. How was last night?"

"Were there lots of hotties?" Finnick sputtered through a full mouth, bits of cornflake flying through the air.

"It was okay…and yes, it was hotties galore. Good looks are sort of a prerequisite for Miss Panem contestants…"

Finnick shrugged, nodding in concurrence.

"We watched the broadcast…you know, to see_ you_ and all…" Cato grinned, "I was surprised that Johanna Mason won. She seemed a bit…full on?"

"Did you see the stink eye she was throwing the other contestants?! I'd say full on was a bit of an understatement. She reminded me of Clove in 'The Circle' – you know, with the crazy eyes?" Finnick shook his head, his expression sincere.

Peeta let out a hollow laugh. "It's funny that you mention her, actually…"

_Like ripping off a band aid. _

"I hope it was me that was mentioned!" Johanna bounded into the room, the towel wrapped around her body barely covering the essentials. She smiled broadly, waving. "I'm Jo – aka Miss Panem. And you're Finnick and Cato." She pointed at them respectively. "Pleasure's all yours, I'm sure." She giggled, turning to face Peeta. "So, I was just about to get in the shower when I realised all I have is last night's dress…I'm going to need to borrow some of your clothes. Just wanted to let you know." she planted a kiss on his cheek before exiting the room, leaving nothing but awkwardness in her wake.

Cato spoke first. "I'm sorry…that _did_ just happen, didn't it? I didn't imagine anything?"

"No, no. It happened. You can't imagine a towel that small. I mean what'd she do – use a face wash?"

"I feel as though you're missing the point a bit, Odair. If _that_ just happened, then that means there was a 'last night' that happened too." Cato looked at Peeta, his expression confused. "I thought…"

"Thought what, Cat?" Peeta folded his arms defiantly. "That Katniss would eventually come running back to me with open arms? That she had somehow 'changed' me? That I was 'over' this 'phase'?"

_That I would do anything in my power to have her back?_

"…All of the above?"

"Newsflash: I am who I am. I tried with Katniss, and she left after two days. You know what that tells me? She doesn't think it's worth it. And maybe I agree with her."

Finnick chimed in, eager to diffuse the situation. "Okay…so where does Driving Miss Crazy over there fit in?"

"She's not that bad. She's fun. A little keen maybe…but there's nothing wrong with that."

"…And she'll be proving this to us today? By…sticking around?"

"Is that a problem?"

Finnick leant back in his chair, his hands pulled back innocently. "Not for me, dude. Annie's flying in today so my opinion is moot."

Peeta shifted his glare. "Cato?"

He picked his words carefully. "…So long as you're doing what will make you happy."

_I'm doing what I can to manage. Is that close enough?_

"Yep."

"Okay…well, I was going to mention this later…but Katniss called last night after you left. She's coming back tomorrow morning. So I was thinking we should move the band meeting to then – just so she's up to date before the tour and everything."

"That's fine by me."

"Cato wasn't sure if you'd want to be there…or if you'd want _her_ to be there…but we do all still work together, so I think it's really important that we're all a part of it." Finnick shoveled another spoonful into his mouth, his head down. "And who knows? Maybe when you two see each other, it'll be like that stupid interview never happened. I mean, that's what you were hoping for when you went to see her, isn't it? Before Gale and everything…that was really unfortunate, by the way. I mean, really-"

"Finnick! …I said it was fine."

The room went silent, awkwardness returning. Peeta made his way to the cupboard, pulling out a bowl and some cereal. The three men leant against the counter as their crunching resumed.

"Cereal? Really?" Johanna reentered the room. A long, black tshirt Peeta recognised hung loose on her frame, his favourite leather belt adorning her waist.

Finnick startled, and uncomfortable laugh escaping. "You're really good at that whole 'sneaking up on people' thing. Is that what you did for the talent portion of the contest?"

Johanna giggled. "You're cute, Finnick. I could just eat you up."

"Please don't."

Cato moved to put his bowel in the sink. "Johanna! Wow – that tshirt looks better on you than it does on Peeta."

Johanna smiled. "I find that's the case with most people's wardrobes."

He forced a smile. "So, what's on the agenda for you two today?"

Johanna opened a drawer and retrieved a spoon before stealing a mouthful of Peeta's breakfast. "A little hungover birdy told me there was some Mockingjay action I could jump into."

"Oh, nothing like the Mockingjay action you've been a part of thus far, unfortunately."

_Ladies and Gentlemen, Finnick "Cheap Shot" Odair!_

Cato and Finnick reached across the island bench, their hands meeting in a loud high-five.

Peeta ignored them. "The boys were just saying how our band meeting has been moved to tomorrow. Logistics and all that."

"Oh. Okay. So what are we doing then?"

Peeta opened his mouth to respond, but Finnick cut him off. "We-" he motioned to himself and Cato, "-have to be at the airport in an hour so that the 'we' that is myself and my beautiful Annie can reunite. At which stage Cato will become a 'we' with his chauffer skills."

"But the good news is that now you're off the hook for the whole day, Mellark." Cato put a firm hand on Peeta's shoulder. "So enjoy that."

Peeta smiled tightly as they exited the kitchen, leaving him alone with his now 1.5 night stand. It stayed silent for over a minute before anyone spoke.

"So. What are we going to do today?"

"Look, Johanna…I don't mean to be an asshole…but-"

"How about we go to the bakery?"

He stopped, perplexed. Johanna took his silence as her cue to continue.

"There's one not far from here – I know the owner…she lets me make some of the bread sometimes, when I have nothing better to do. It's not glamorous…but it tastes good!"

_How did she…?_

Peeta paused for a long moment. He was going into dangerous territory here, and he knew it. Johanna Mason was supposed to have a short shelf life; their meet and greet was going to be an in and out experience as metaphorical as it was literal. And yet, she intrigued Peeta.

She nudged him, a small smile appearing. "What? You got something better to do?"

Peeta thought about his alternatives. High on the list was thinking about Katniss; listing the points along the way where he'd gone wrong – depressing himself with how many said points existed within a 48 hour period…Alternatively, he could mull over his plan of attack for when Katniss returned; prepare for any possible conversation; identify all the hiding spots…

_Or, I could bake with Miss Panem._

"Turns out, not so much." Peeta offered Johanna a small smile, "To the bakery!"

* * *

The change was obvious the second Peeta got into the bakery's kitchen. The intense heat of the ovens distracted him from his own anger; the constant flour smog made his own thoughts hazy. Here was where he could stop thinking. He had no i's to dot and t's to cross. He didn't have to be Peeta Mellark, rockstar extraordinaire. Inside this flour-infused fog, surrounded by the smell of hot coals and fresh bread, he could just _be_.

"So…what's her name?"

Peeta froze, his hands intertwined with the dough in front of him. "Who?"

Johanna kept her eyes on her own mound of dough. "Her."

"I don't know who you're talking about."

She sighed emphatically. "I just finished telling you about the time I met Clove at a Capitol party and she convinced me to go skinny dipping in the fountain."

"You don't strike me as someone who can be easily convinced."

"Okay, so maybe I convinced her." Johanna smirked, "The point is: I made sure to pay extra special attention to detail when recalling the part where there were no  
clothes. And you know what you said?"

"No – but feel free to repeat the story so I'll find out."

She looked up at him. "You said _'sounds nice'_."

"…It _does_ sound nice!"

Johanna broke a piece of dough from her pile, throwing it at him. "I was expecting a bit more than that, Mellark."

Peeta pulled apart his own batch, returning fire. "Maybe I was expecting more from the story."

"Or maybe…there's a her."

_A Katniss._

"There's not."

"No, no, hear me out. I've given this some thought. First, I actually had to _work for it_ last night. Do you know how many times I've had to do that? Here's a clue: it's the same amount of times I've had to pay for drinks at a bar." She paused for dramatic effect. "That's zero, for those playing at home. And then! Then you have the nerve to try and boot me out this morning – is that the proper way to treat Miss Panem? I think not!"

"Maybe I wasn't in the mood. It happens."

Johanna laughed. "Please."

Peeta turned back to his dough, his mouth forming a stern line.

"Oh and let's not forget the concerned looks Finnick and Cato were throwing your way when I walked in…"

Peeta didn't look up. "You're observant."

"Thanks." Johanna smiled, flicking her hair over one shoulder. "So. All of this – along with you ignoring my story about two girls with an aversion to clothes – leads me to one conclusion."

_You think you're Sherlock fucking Holmes?_

"There is most definitely a her."

Peeta stayed silent, adding flour to his board haphazardly. He could see Johanna watching him closely in his peripheral vision. Several beats of silence passed.

"Okay, fine. Don't pour your heart out then."

_I won't._

"Just stand there all silent and broody. See if I care."

_No, see if __I__ care._

"I have to say, though - I thought the infamous Peeta Mellark would be more dedicated to his off-stage antics. She really must've been something – no me, of course – but something."

_She is._

"But don't tell me any details. No worries. Just stand there and pretend you enjoy all this baking shit."

"It's not shit."

"He speaks!" She smiled, oblivious to his scowl. "…And it is pretty shit. I only mentioned it because I read in an article somewhere that your family owned a bakery."

Peeta faltered. "Like I said: observant."

Johanna turned around, lifting herself effortlessly onto the dusty counter. "Let's call it a leap of faith." Her legs swung back and forth lazily. "What do you like about all this crap anyway?"

"It's simple."

"Jeez…you make it sound _so_ appealing…"

"It is. It's simple, and it's straightforward. There's a recipe; one way to make something. And if you follow that way, it works out. And if you don't, it doesn't."

Johanna pulled a face. "Ugh. How boring. Who wants to follow directions all the time?"

"I do." Peeta reached across the bench, seizing a rolling pin tightly. "When I'm here, it all makes sense. I know what I'm doing, and I know why. …Life doesn't come with directions."

Johanna's legs slowed to a stop as she took his words in. "Jeez Mellark…that's a bit deep."

He stayed silent, his cheeks turning a dark shade of red.

Johanna moved off of the bench. Wordlessly reaching across Peeta, she grabbed a handful of flour before returning to her dough. They stood side by side, working silently, for what seemed like an age. The initial insecurity brought on by his disclosure eventually eased and – much to his surprise - Peeta found himself feeling comfortable beside his now one night and day stand.

They'd both placed trays of would-be cookies in the oven before Johanna spoke again. "So…_her_..."

"Katniss."

Her name escaped Peeta's lips before he could stop himself. His hand flew to his mouth, too late to recapture his admission. Johanna's eyes grew wide as they surveyed him up and down, seemingly searching for another giveaway. He waited for her to say something, certain that if he spoke first he'd continue to overshare. Thankfully he didn't have to wait too long.

"Katniss." She repeated the name slowly, rolling it around in her mouth. "That girl from the Caesar Flickerman interview?! The _assistant_?"

Peeta didn't respond.

"Oh wow." Johanna moved to lean against the bench, her arms folded loosely across her chest. "Talk about a fucking cliché!"

_Careful._

"Sweetie, you can do much better than her." She smirked. "I mean, you already have."

"Don't go there."

Johanna raised her arms defensively. "Okay, okay. I'm just saying. I was _not_ expecting this sudden turn of events. I mean, I only saw the one picture…and maybe it was a bad one - the camera can't love us all – but…really? Like…_really_?!"

"Don't pretend like you know anything. Don't."

She opened her mouth to respond, but shut it quickly. Her head tilted to one side as she thought. "Want to talk about it?"

"For fuck's sake Johanna – no, I do not want to fucking talk about it!"

"The cookies won't finish for another 20 minutes – what else are we going to talk about?"

_How about anything?!_

Peeta folded his arms firmly, his gaze down.

"So, did you lie to Flickerman? Or was he just behind the 8-ball? Because I've met him a few times and I've gotta say, he isn't as cluey as he tries to come off…"

"Leave it."

"That photo looked pretty recent…I mean, it was taken at your hotel pool…"

"Johanna."

"But when Flickerman asked you…jeez – if that wasn't the truth then lying is definitely in your skill set." She paused for a moment. "I mean, I'd get _why_ you'd lie…image is everything…but all this-" she gestured to his stance "-this hostility…what happened _after_ the lie? Is that when she screwed you over?"

"Go fuck yourself, Mason." Peeta turned to leave. He reached the kitchen door, its cold metal stinging the palm of his hand.

"I'm sorry, Peeta. You didn't deserve that."

"Like I said, you don't know a fucking thing."

"I might. Not that you'd fucking know."

Peeta turned his head slightly, his hand still on the door. "Go on then. Enlighten me."


	12. Chapter 12

"That'll be $43 dollars, ma'am."

Katniss passed some money to the gentleman in the driver's seat. He thanked her with a curt nod before releasing the passenger side lock. As the door swung open, Katniss pulled herself up and onto the sidewalk. It was almost midday and though the sun was shining, a cool breeze made her shiver.

Katniss dug her hand into her pocket, her fingers closing around her phone. Two messages flashed simultaneously on her screen. The first was from Gale: _I still don't think this is a good idea, Catnip. Come home._ Katniss sighed inwardly as she deleted the message. Gale was her oldest and best friend; her rock…she hated disappointing him.

Scrolling up, she saw that the second one was from Prim: _You've got this. Love you._

She smiled to herself as she tucked the phone away. Prim was right – she did have this. There were doubts; reservations…thoughts about whether she should just walk away and accept it was all for nothing. But this was Katniss' dream: getting out of District 12, having a job with one of the biggest companies in Panem, being self-sufficient without a bow and arrow…she couldn't – wouldn't – give that up because of one person.

_Especially not Peeta Mellark._

What happened was not her fault, and she would not pay the consequences. Period.

She gazed up at the dark grey building, its imposing oak doors all too familiar. She took a slow, deliberate step towards the hotel. Then another. And another. Soon she had reached the top of the stairs, her hand hovering on the brass handle.

_You've got this, Everdeen._

Suddenly, the door swung open, its force knocking Katniss backwards.

"Katniss! Oh my gosh I'm so sorry!" A hand reached out, clutching her arm.

She blinked, steadying herself. "Annie?!"

Annie straightened, her hands tugging at the hem of her dress. A wide smile took over as she looked her friend up and down. "You look good."

"So do you! When did you arrive?!"

"Only yesterday…I thought you'd be here…but then…"

The girls shared a terse smile, and Katniss shrugged.

"Anyway! You beat me here...let me escort you up?"

They made their way through the lobby, up the elevator and down the hall without a hitch, but as they approached the large, glossy door Annie suddenly stopped.

"Katniss…he's on the other side of that door…are you sure you're okay to do this? It might not be…exactly what you're expecting."

"I'm not expecting anything - I learnt that lesson, remember?" Katniss smiled wryly, nudging her friend. "Now let's hurry up, this bag is heavy!"

She surged forward, pushing open the door. As she stepped into the living room, the bag that she had slung over her shoulder slumped to the ground noisily.

_Show time._

Her eyes flickered across the room, taking in her view. The two familiar couches had been positioned opposite each other, with the TV pushed to one side. Sitting on the couch facing her were Cato and Finnick. Cato looked up, and their eyes met. He offered her a nervous smile, which she returned.

Her gaze dropped slightly, settling on a familiar mop of curly blonde hair. Her breath hitched as she saw him begin to turn.

_You're here for you. Fuck him._

Peeta's eyes locks onto hers. Relief flooded his features as a wide, warm smile spread across his face, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. His happiness at seeing her was sincere as it was obvious.

"Katniss." He breathed.

A familiar warmth spread across her cheeks as she shifted her gaze, desperate not to prolong the moment.

_Stop it. _

She looked back to Cato, opening her mouth to say something, when she felt a slender figure crash into her, its owner's bony arms squeezing tightly. Katniss jerked back, pushing her accoster away. A young woman stood in front of her, smiling.

"You must be Kat!"

Katniss surveyed the woman in front of her. Tall, slender, with short brown hair and dark eyes. She was smiling, but somehow it seemed more like a snarl.

"I'm Johanna – aka Miss Panem – Peeta's…_friend_."

The room seemed to come to a standstill. The door swung shut as Annie stepped into the room, though no one turned to acknowledge her. All eyes were on Katniss; waiting for her to react; to break down; to put on display how broken she was.

_Not going to happen, folks._

A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth as she looked Johanna up and down. She shook her head, more to herself than to her new acquaintance, and shrugged. "Of course you are."

In her peripheral vision she could see Peeta craning his neck, desperate to get her attention. Instead, Katniss turned. "Annie, you reckon we could sort some food?"

"Oh!" Annie stepped forward, "Yeah - yeah of course!"

Katniss offered the room a tight smile before moving into the kitchen, Annie on her heels. They'd barely made it through the doorframe before she let herself go.

"Katniss I'm so sorry. I wanted to tell you – I did – but Finnick thought that if you knew, you wouldn't come. And I so badly wanted you to be here. You belong here. Not like _her_…she just showed up! And now she just…she just…" Annie leant in, lowering her voice, "She just _won't leave_!"

Katniss watched as her friend moved to the fridge, pulling out a block of cheese. "So all I know is this:" she placed the cheese on the counter and moved to the pantry, a large box of crackers in her sight, "Peeta was a guest judge for the Miss Panem competition. Johanna Mason won." Annie put together a cheese and cracker sandwich and bit into it, munching loudly, "Something happened in the middle-"

_Sure. "Something"._

"-and then bam! She's here!" Annie grabbed a handful of crackers, apparently too preoccupied to add cheese.

"Winning Peeta Mellark must have been a part of the prize package." Katniss shrugged. "Or, maybe _his_ package was a part of it."

"That sounds more likely." Annie giggled. "I'm sorry I didn't say something."

Katniss reached across the bench, taking a cracker from Annie's pile. "What could you have said? 'Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No! It's the bullet you just dodged!'?"

"Maybe?"

"I'm not mad, Annie. Promise."

Annie let out a heavy sigh before popping another cracker in her mouth.

"Any left for the rest of us?"

Katniss turned a little too quickly at the sound of his voice, unable to stop herself.

_Fuck! Next time, Everdeen, don't turn at all._

"Peeta—" Annie faltered, "—Uh. Yeah. Um. I could…take these out there?" she looked at Katniss, trying to gauge whether she wanted to be left alone.

_I can be an adult. Watch. _

"Sounds good." Katniss smiled at Annie.

Picking up the tray, Annie ushered herself from the room. She threw Katniss an apologetic look before pulling the door shut behind her.

Even with Annie gone, Peeta remained by the door way, and invisible barrier keeping them apart. His hands were stuffed into his pockets, his head down. Katniss leant against the counter, her arms folded across her chest. She quickly rearranged her features, finally settling on what she hoped looked like boredom.

"So." Peeta spoke to the ground, still not daring to look up. "You're back."

Katniss took a moment to make sure her voice was steady. "I told you I would be."

"…Yeah." He lifted his eyes to meet hers, "I'm glad."

Katniss didn't respond.

"…How…how was home? Prim?" He swallowed hard. "Gale?"

"All fine. Same as always."

"I tried to call."

"I know."

_I almost answered._

Peeta nodded, more to himself than to her. They stood in silence, the tension in the air growing thicker. Katniss shifted her weight, determined not to speak first. Peeta, too, seemed to be battling his will. His hand left his pocket, instead running through his tousled hair. She watched him stare intently at the ground, his brow furrowed.

_Good. Squirm._

Suddenly, he looked up. "She really is just a friend – barely that, even."

Katniss paused, thrown from the change in conversation. "…You have nothing to explain, Peeta."

"I – I just needed you to know."

"Okay."

Silence fell over them again. A minute or so passed before Katniss spoke up.

"You don't have to do this."

Peeta's brow creased. "What?"

"You don't owe me anything." She gestured to the living room, "You're obviously fine, and so am I. So just stop all of this—" she motioned to them both "—and let's just act like adults, okay?"

"Okay…"

"Good. So we're done then." Katniss straightened and looked at the door expectantly.

_This would be the part where you fuck off._

Peeta got the hint. He pushed the door back open and turned to leave. "I'm sorry, Katniss."

"I know."

_I'm just not sure that I care._

* * *

"It'll work, Mellark. She's more irritating than I was expecting so I'll have to put more effort into the whole 'being nice' thing, but it'll work. She obviously still cares."

"Like I said – I'm not interested."

Johanna rolled her eyes, leaning against the bedhead. Peeta paced at the foot of the bed, one hand rubbing the back of his neck.

"Jesus Peeta cut it out – you're going to give yourself a fucking friction burn."

He stopped, looking at her intently. "I mean it, Johanna. It was a stupid fucking plan to begin with. I'm done."

"Excuse you – the plan is genius. We make Katniss jealous, you act all charming and shit, and voila! She'll be begging you to take her back."

"First of all – you don't know Katniss. If I'd given it a fucking iota of thought I would've known it hasn't got a chance in hell. Second of all, you're not listening: _I don't want to fucking do it._"

Johanna straightened up on the bed, her arms folded. "Fine, I'll bite. Why not?"

"Playing games is how I lost her."

"Yeah because you played the wrong one, dumbass."

Peeta ignored her. "I'm not going to try and trick her. I won't."

Johanna snorted, "Okay Romeo, so what's Plan B?"

"I let her go."

"Righty-o."

"I'm serious. I'm not going to try to get her back."

Johanna surveyed him intently, trying to gauge the sincerity of his declaration. "You're serious."

"Yep."

"You're an idiot." Johanna slid off the side of the bed, her hands on her hips. "A god damn fucking idiot."

_I know a lot of people who wouldn't disagree._

"You have one half-assed conversation in a kitchen and now you're doing a complete 180. What the fuck?!" She moved towards him, "We're one staged photo-op away from being the biggest thing since President Snow's mistress, and you want to go and have a fucking change of heart? Sorry – no."

"So much for wanting to be altruistic."

Johanna scoffed. "Oh please, Mellark. We used each other. I was just better at it. Katniss would've been a great bonus, but she wasn't the priority. Don't pretend like you didn't know." She walked past Peeta and grabbed a bag. "But if you're serious, then clearly getting these delivered here was a waste of fucking time."

_Good thing you didn't unpack._

Peeta stood to the side as she began pulling the suitcases behind her.

"Are you seriously not going to help?!" She paused, waiting for a response. Peeta stayed silent.

"…I'd be out of here a lot quicker if you did."

Relenting with a sigh, he reached forward, lifting both of the suitcases with ease.

"Forced chivalry at its best." Johanna rolled her eyes as she followed him out of the room.

They reached the elevator, its doors closing swiftly.

"I wish I could say it's been a pleasure."

"Fucking hell who died and made you King Hypocrite?! We're two of a kind, Peeta. And whatever this was – it was mutually beneficial. Or at least it was supposed to be."

A quiet _ding_ signalled that they had reached the lobby. Lifting the suitcases, he moved towards the main doors, eager to shut the proverbial one on this chapter. As he moved closer, he began hearing loud voices on the other side. A familiar _click_ kept sounding off.

Johanna moved past him. She stopped briefly while he caught up before moving to open the door. The familiar clicking increased; Peeta only putting two and two together after it was too late.

_FUCK._

Peeta squinted against the multitude of camera flashes, paparazzi lining the stairs with their microphones and video cameras.

"Move!" He roared, pressing forward.

Johanna slipped her arm through his, following him through the crowd.

_Peeta! Peeta! Can you tell us what you love most about Johanna?_

_Were you dating before the Miss Panem competition?_

_Will she be going on tour with Mockingjay?!_

_Johanna – how did you nab the most famous player in Panem?_

_How do you think your fans will feel now that you're not single?_

Peeta stayed silent, keeping his head down. Finally, they reached the waiting taxi. Flinging the door open, he threw the suitcases in the boot and opened the back door.

"Did you plan this?!"

Johanna waved at the cameras, a coy smile playing on her lips. "I told you my plans work."

"You're a bitch. Don't say a word to them."

"Something tells me I won't have to."

She slipped into the taxi and it sped off, leaving Peeta along with the media hounds.

_Stay calm, stay silent._

Turning to face the onslaught, he began heading back towards the hotel; to seclusion. The flashes continued mercilessly, making his route difficult to navigate. He lifted his head, hoping to clear his vision. That was when he saw her. It was only a glimpse – she'd been quick – but he was sure of it.

_Katniss._


End file.
